


Making Memories Anew

by Tagsit



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 85,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tagsit/pseuds/Tagsit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ad Man Brian Kinney becomes enamored of a young blond twink he meets at the youth’s Prom.  When tragedy strikes the young man and Kinney tries to help, a series of misunderstandings, accompanied by the betrayal of a parent, lead to Kinney becoming responsible for the boy’s well being.  Is Brian man enough to tell the young man he cares so much about of his unintentional deceit, knowing that it might drive the boy away for good? </p><p>***Story is Now Complete - Enjoy!****</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fairmont

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1 - The Fairmont

The Fairmont in downtown Pittsburgh had long been one of the most luxurious hotels in the city. It was located in the heart of the business district and had great views of both the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers, as well as Point State Park and the PNC Park stadium complex. It was the only place that Brian Kinney would even think of putting up an out-of-town client like David Remsen, the CEO and founder of Remsen Pharmaceuticals. It was also right around the corner from Liberty Avenue, within walking distance of Kinnetik headquarters, in fact, which was another factor in its favor as far as Kinney was concerned. 

Brian was seated in the elegantly appointed lobby of the Fairmont, enjoying a Chivas Regal on the rocks, and killing time by reviewing the boards for the Remsen campaign pitch scheduled for tomorrow morning at 10:00 am. It was 8:30 pm and he’d just left Remsen’s hotel room, where he had deposited the corporate exec after personally picking him up at the airport and taking him out for an early dinner. It was too late to get the presentation boards back to Kinnetik tonight, even though there were several changes that he was going to insist the art department get right on first thing in the morning, and it was way too early to head home or to one of his usual Saturday night haunts. Kinney had figured that this comfortable lobby, with its plush, high-backed, overstuffed chairs, pleasant and attentive wait staff who were always ready to refill his drink and convenient wifi access for his laptop, was as good a place as any to sit and relax while he reviewed and prepared for tomorrow’s presentation. 

At least that was what he’d thought when he first entered the lobby and found a seat in an out of the way corner. Unfortunately, it appeared that tonight the Fairmont was hosting some event involving hordes of noisy, boisterous teenagers who kept traipsing through the lobby, laughing and yelling at the tops of their voices and continually distracting him. From the looks of the girls in their fashionable gowns and the boys all in tuxedos or suits, Kinney was guessing it was a high school prom. Just his luck! He was about to give up and head home when an even bigger disruption drew his attention away from his work once again. 

“Leave me alone, Hobbs! You’ve been bullying me all year and I’m NOT going to take it any more. If you don’t leave me and Daphne alone tonight, I might just let slip to the rest of your fucking jock crowd about just how excited you get while cleaning out the athletic storage shed,” shouted a blond-haired young man of medium build wearing a well-tailored tuxedo who had just come around the corner into the lobby, pursued by a much taller and more brawny boy. 

“Fuck you, Taylor!” growled back the taller youth, grabbing the other’s shoulder, spinning the smaller boy around and grabbing a wad of shirt and jacket in his meaty left fist. “Don’t you EVER let me hear you say anything about that again. I’ll fucking kill you if you even whisper one fucking word.” The furious young man was shaking the other boy, hissing his threats and practically spitting he was so angry, while waving his right fist an inch away from the other’s nose.

Brian was already halfway out of his chair, ready to go break up the fight, when the hotel’s Assistant Manager and several other hotel staff rushed up to separate and quiet the two disputants. The taller mousey-brown haired boy, whose name appeared to be ‘Hobbs’, was still holding on to the smaller boy’s clothing and barking out obscenities and threats, apparently unaware of the hands and voices of the hotel staff trying to calm him down. The boy’s face was now purple with rage and spittle was escaping out of the corners of his mouth. It took four people to eventually pry his hands away from the blond’s lapels and drag him out of the lobby through the main entrance doors. The blond merely stood there in the lobby, his chest heaving in anger and his fists balled, but taking no further aggressive action, so the hotel staff let him be for the moment while they concentrated on the more unruly teen.

As soon as the more aggressive youth was shoved out of the hotel, the young blond began to pace up and down the lobby, muttering under his breath and taking deep gulps of air. Kinney watched the young man from his corner seat, admiring the youth’s compact frame, his pale ivory skin and bright blond hair all wrapped up in the lovely packaging provided by the smokey grey tux, strikingly offset by a cobalt blue bow tie and matching cumberbund. He also admired the lad’s spunky attitude, knowing that standing up to a bully, especially one physically larger than you, took balls - Kinney had had plenty of experience with bullies himself. After several minutes, the feisty blond began to calm down and he eventually ceased his muttering but continued to walk around the lobby.

While Kinney continued to regard the little blond, the young man began to take note of the several really decent art pieces adorning the Fairmont lobby. Kinney had noted the excellent quality of the art on many of his previous visits to the hotel. There was even a Kandinsky on the wall right across from where Brian’s chair was situated. 

It wasn’t long before the boy discovered the magnificent painting and stood staring in awe at the quintessential modern abstract work. To get an even better view of the painting, the youth moved over to stand directly in front of Kinney’s chair, his attention riveted on the artwork. Brian, meanwhile, was busy enjoying a different work of art, namely the young man’s perfect little bubble butt, which was peeking out from under the tails of his tux jacket. The older man felt his dick twitch from the mere glimpse of that perky little ass and consequently took his time admiring the view. 

The Kandinsky happened to be a rather large piece - Kinney, himself, had been amazed that such an amazing and famous work of art was displayed here in this relatively inauspicious location - and the attractive blond started to back up so he could get a better view of the overall concept of the large canvas. The young man’s attention was so completely focused on the art he was viewing that he was paying no attention at all to his surroundings at the moment. He was so wrapped up in his perusal of this incredible piece that he had taken at least ten steps backwards without glancing once at what was behind him. And, while Kinney sat there grinning, happily anticipating the likely outcome, the boy took the eleventh step back, which happened to be just one step too far, and toppled over right into Brian Kinney’s lap. Kinney, never one to look a gift blond in the mouth, immediately wrapped his arms around the startled youth and squeezed him tight. 

“Hello, Beautiful,” the happy brunet said to the disconcerted blond in his lap. 

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I was just too amazed by this painting, you know. Sorry,” the boy said while trying to extricate himself from the older man’s arms. 

Brian was enjoying himself far too much, though, to let the squirming blond escape so easily. He just clasped his arms together more tightly and grinned at the struggling boy. 

“Not so fast. I’d love to hear what you were thinking about this piece when you so conveniently dropped in for a visit,” Kinney responded, curling his lips under in amusement, not loosening his grip even a smidgen.

“Uh. . . .well, it’s a Kandinsky, isn’t it? I’ve seen pictures of this piece in some of my art history textbooks at school. I had no idea it was here in Pittsburgh though. I’ve only seen one other original Kandinsky, the one at the Carnegie Mellon Art Gallery, but this one is . . . . sooooo much more amazing. I think it’s from the artist’s ‘Blue Rider’ period. It’s so emotional - such amazing force. I can see now what the texts were trying to say about him,” the enthusiastic youth kept on, rapt in his vehement admiration for the artwork. 

Brian was enchanted by the young man - his avid enjoyment of the artwork, his boundless enthusiasm, his ability to so easily express his very intelligent opinions about the piece and, not least of all, his apparent lack of embarrassment at sitting in the lap of a complete stranger. The boy hadn’t come across as at all uncomfortable by his unconventional perch and as Kinney looked at the excited sapphire blue eyes of the young man in his arms, his gaydar started pinging off the charts. This made the older man all the more reluctant to release his hold on the pleasant, amiable youth. 

“You seem to know quite a bit about art. Are you an artist yourself,” Brian interrupted the boy’s ardent appreciation. 

“Well, sorta. I mean, I want to be an artist someday. Right now, I’m just a student,” the boy responded, slightly embarrassed.

“Well, if I’m in the presence of a future famous artist I should introduce myself. I’m Brian Kinney. And, you are?” 

“Justin. Justin Taylor,” the young blond said with a timid smile, while holding out his hand at an awkward angle due to their odd position.

“Nice to meet you, Justin Taylor.”

Brian reached his hand around to shake the one offered by the young blond, and squeezed the boy’s waist at the same time with his other arm. The boy smiled at the older man with a full-out, wide, toothsome smile. Brian noted that the boy’s smile was contagious and allowed himself to smile back almost as fully.

“Justin! There you are. Where have you been. I’ve been waiting in there for you for, like, twenty minutes,” said a lovely, petite, young, brunette girl wearing a flouncy peach taffeta gown as she stomped heavily towards the pair, in spite of her two and a half inch stiletto heels. 

“Sorry, Daph,” replied the charming young blond boy, as a reddish flush began to creep up from the collar of his dress shirt. “I got a little distracted.” The boy smiled shyly at the man whose lap he was sitting upon.

“I can see that,” the girl smirked at her friend. “Come on. I want to dance and you promised me that if I came to Prom with you that you would actually dance with me.” 

The youth looked at the handsome man he’d been conversing with for the past few minutes, smiled, and then reached down to unwind the arms around his waist. 

“Sorry. I’d better go. My date . . . . It was nice to meet you, Brian Kinney,” the boy intoned in a soft tenor voice, as he rose to his feet and began to back away in the direction his friend was already headed. “Later.”

“Later,” Kinney responded, grinning back at the retreating form of the very captivating young man.

Brian shifted uncomfortably in his chair as soon as the pair was out of sight, trying to relieve the tightness in his pants caused by the wriggling youth’s former presence in his lap. He was grinning to himself all the while, completely turned on by the intelligent, genial young man he’d been embracing, and regretting that he’d had to leave so abruptly. 

-Get a grip, Kinney! He was just a kid. 

He tried to clear his mind and calm his cock after the brief but enjoyable encounter. Then the man reached over and began to gather up the presentation boards and other client documentation he’d been looking over, ready to head home and then to the club, intent on taking care of the inconvenient boner he was still sporting courtesy of the little blond twink. 

As the man assembled his scattered paperwork, he noted a brown leather wallet lying on the floor next to his briefcase. He reached down to grab the item, opened it up and immediately saw from the driver’s license prominently displayed under the plastic window on the right side flap, that the wallet belonged to the blond that had recently fallen into his lap. He picked the item up, finished stowing the boards and other papers in his briefcase and then headed off towards the ‘event rooms’ at the rear of the hotel, determined to return the wallet to its cute, blond, twink owner.


	2. The Last Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, everyone knows what happens after the Prom, right. I figured we might as well get it over with at the beginning of the story, this time. So, unfortunately, here goes. TAG

Chapter 2 - The Last Dance

Finding the ballroom which was the site of the dance was easy. Brian simply followed the giggling, noisy teens who were teeming in the hotel hallways until he heard loud, pop music with way too much bass, pounding out through the doors of a nearby room. Kinney skirted the table next to door, not even bothering to acknowledge the attractive young brunette waving at him and asking for his ticket. Scanning the room for the short-cropped blond head he was looking for, he rapidly moved through the crowd of curious teens. 

Brian Kinney would draw all eyes in whatever room he was in. Tonight was no exception. The man was still in his business attire - a charcoal grey Roberto Cavalli suit with a dark carmine red shirt and matching tie, a la page. His normal business dress, however, was more than elegant enough to overshadow any of the tuxes at a high school Prom. And on top of his exquisite, custom tailored suit, he was, well, just plain HOT - at 6’2” he towered over many of the teens here, and his shining chestnut hair, glowing tanned skin and classic chiselled features, not to mention the fact that he was much older than the average Prom goer, definitely caused him to stand out. The awed youngsters tended to scatter out of his way as he strode purposely through the ballroom.

Finally sighting the particular young blond man he was seeking dancing with his friend at the far edge of the dance floor, Kinney maneuvered through the groups of chatting teens, the randomly arranged large, round, tables and busy hotel serving staff, and eventually made his way over to the energetically dancing couple. 

“Hello, again,” Kinney said, interrupting the dancing pair, who both turned abruptly to face the older man. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” the teasing blond youth quipped as he grinned mischievously up at the attractive brunet. “If you want to become my official stalker, you know, I’m all in favor of it.” 

“I’m not stalking you. I just thought I’d come in here and try to recapture some of my lost youth,” the sensual older man purred, his eyes locked on the young man and virtually ignoring his date. 

Then, unable to stop himself, Brian found his left hand reaching out and trailing down the boy’s chest, then up again under the tux’s narrow lapel, still looking into the bright blue eyes in front of him. Remembering himself, finally, he withdrew the wandering hand, reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the wallet he’d found in the lobby. 

“Oh, and I thought you might want this back, too,” Kinney said while holding the object out to the youth. 

“My wallet?” said the boy, while patting his pants’ pocket, just now realizing the wallet was gone. “Where’d you find this?” he added with a smile, accepting the now-found wallet.

“It just dropped into my lap, along with its owner, a few minutes ago. Lucky me.” Brian found that he was still captivated by the blond’s piercing blue eyes, unable to look away even now. 

“Thanks,” was all the now blushing young man could say as he too continued to stare into the eyes of the other man. 

“Well, enjoy yourselves,” Kinney added quietly as he began to back away from the couple, finally breaking eye contact and turning towards the exit.

“Would you like to dance,” the blond blurted out impulsively, saying the first thing that came to his mind that might keep this enticing man near him. Then, as the man turned back towards him, the blond added, “please. It’s the least I can do to thank you for returning my wallet.”

-God, look at that tantalizing smile. Those lips. I wonder if they taste as good as they look. 

Kinney couldn’t stop the fantasy now playing in his mind, and to tell the truth, he didn’t really want to. And in spite of the ridiculousness of Brian Kinney dancing with a twink at a high school Prom, he was more than tempted to accept the invitation. 

Seeing that the tall, attractive man was hesitating, the boy impetuously reached over, grasped the brunet’s perfectly manicured hand, and began leading the older man onto the dance floor, before he could say no. 

-He’s got balls, too - Brian laughed to himself. What the hell - what harm could one dance do? Nobody I know is going to see me here anyway - the man rationalized, allowing himself to be pulled to the center of the floor.

Just as the two men reached the middle of the dance floor, the band finished the upbeat pop song they’d been playing and started in on a slower tune. Brian recognized one of his favorite ‘oldies’, Save the Last Dance by the Drifters, and smiled as he pulled the younger man closer towards him into a classic waltz position. The youth hadn’t been quite prepared for this, and wasn’t sure he even remembered the steps, but figured those horrible dance lessons his mother had forced him to take at the country club might finally come in handy. The young man let his body relax into the arms of the older man and decided to just let him lead.

Kinney smiled rather haughtily down at his dance partner and then, using his hips and upraised left arm to guide the younger man, he moved into a seemingly effortless waltz around the dance floor. The amazed high schoolers around them quickly cleared out of the way, leaving the entire floor to the handsome couple. Brian, never one to waste a chance to be in the spotlight, put even more effort into his steps, putting on a show for the wide-eyed crowd. He squeezed the boy in his arms once and looked down at him, grinning. 

“Wanna give them something to really remember?” Kinney lightheartedly asked the blond, who grinned back and nodded. “Then, hold on.”

So saying, the skilled older man stepped back, twirling his partner around three times, the boy gracefully raising up on his toes, keeping his back straight and tucking his left arm behind his back in a formal pose. The way the boy willingly cooperated caused Kinney to smile even more, his hazel eyes gleaming as he swooped the youth back into his embrace and glided in increasingly larger circles around the now empty floor. The frisky youth smiling up at him kept egging him on, the two engaging in even fancier steps until the song was nearing its end. Then, once again squeezing the boy so that he knew something new was coming, he dipped the limber young man, lowering him almost to the floor. The blond laughed out loud at the exhilarating move, tipped his head back and gave the staring crowd a huge upside-down smile. Kinney then pulled the youth back up to a standing position. But he didn’t stop there - he grabbed his partner tightly around his waist, picking the smaller man up completely and spinning the two of them around several times before ending the dance by crushing his lips against the full rosy lips that he’d been fantasizing about earlier. 

The young man was startled at first by the unexpected kiss, but after only a few moments, he let himself relax and began to return the other man’s attentions, with gusto. The kiss deepened, teeth nipping at lips and tongues demanding entrance to dance together. The younger man reached his hands up to grab the brunet by the nape of his neck and pull the man down into an even closer kiss while simultaneously revelling in the feeling of the glossy chestnut locks running through his fingers. 

The two men only broke apart when the smattering of clapping and occasional wolf whistles and hoots eventually broke through to their conscious minds. Both dance partners looked up at the crowd, smiled widely and then the older man grasped the younger’s hand to pull him off the dance floor. Neither man noticed the few eyes staring at them with scorn and even hatred - they were too caught up in the moment. 

“That was AMAZING,” Daphne raved as she met the boys at the edge of the dance floor. “God, when you kissed it was SOOOO HOT!” The girl was grinning almost as much as the two men and all three spontaneously broke out laughing. 

“Well that should leave them all with something to remember,” Kinney sarcastically added.

“Me too,” the boy beamed at the man. The two men stood close together, mute, eyes locked for several more minutes, before Kinney slowly started to step back.

“Well, I should get going. Thank you for the dance. . . .What was your name again?” Kinney asked the beautiful blond, whose ecstatic expression dropped from his face immediately at the dismissive comment.

“Justin,” he reminded the man. 

“Justin. Right. Well, goodnight, Justin,” the brunet added as he stepped away.

“Um. . . . can I . . .can I walk with you to your car,” Justin rushed to ask before this incredible man could leave.

Brian looked back at the pleading youth, again noting the full pouty lips and those incredible blue eyes that seemed to draw you in against your will. 

-That kiss on the dance floor was pretty hot. I wouldn’t mind another one, and . . . .maybe something more. . . .the man thought to himself, unable to deny his own desires. What the hell - he found himself thinking again. ‘What the hell’ seems to be tonight’s theme, so I might as well give in to it.

“Sure, kid,” he replied to the young man, reaching out to grasp the small, warm hand and pull the boy after him in the direction of the elevator leading to the parking garage. 

Justin looked back briefly at Daphne, impishly raised his eyebrows, grinning insanely at his best friend. Daphne gave him the thumbs up sign and then waved, heading back to one of the tables. The boy then returned his attention to the gorgeous man in front of him. 

In the lobby, the two men stood by the elevators, and Brian pulled the younger man into a tight embrace, kissing him lightly on the lips, disregarding the many reproachful looks they were getting from people walking by as well as from one teen who had followed them out of the ballroom. When the elevator doors finally opened, Kinney pulled young Mr. Taylor into the small enclosure, pushed the correct floor button and then pushed the boy back against the wall with his hand on the youth’s chest and his lips returning to kiss and nip at the tasty, pouty lips. 

When the elevator stopped at the garage level and the doors opened, it took the men several seconds to realize they were at their destination and break off the passionate kiss. Justin giggled up at the tall brunet, who smiled and led them out into the maze of concrete pillars and parked cars. Justin was still humming the Drifters tune they had been dancing to earlier, so Brian playfully spun the boy around again, both men laughing and play dancing on their way to his jeep parked in the far corner. 

At the car, Brian again pulled the boy towards him, spun the boy so he was leaning with his back against the vehicle and dove in for another sensuous, long, wet, open-mouthed kiss. 

“Thank you. This was the most wonderful night of my life,” the boy added when the kiss finally ended. 

“It WAS ridiculously romantic,” Brian tenderly smiled back at the youth.

Kinney then pushed himself back, moved the boy gently away from the Jeep and, reaching up to run the back of his fingers down the soft creamy cheek of the young man, he added, “Later.”

Justin beamed another amazing smile at the man who had just made his Prom so memorable while backing away, and responded likewise, “Later.” He then turned and started to walk back towards the elevators with a bouncing, happy gait. 

Brian Kinney, the normally hard-as-nails businessman and cold-as-ice sexual predator, looked in his rearview mirror to get one more glimpse of the charismatic, playful, enchanting young man and he smiled at Justin’s retreating back. The older man couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much simple fun. Then he shook his head and started to turn the key in the ignition, finally pulling his eyes away from the image of the compact young blond.

Just as he was about to turn away, though, a movement at the edge of his vision grabbed his attention and he looked back into the mirror. What he saw was a taller, muscular teen, also wearing a tux, coming up at a fast pace behind Justin. The part that made his blood run cold, though, was the raised baseball bat the kid was carrying as he raced towards the unwary blond.

“Justin!” Kinney yelled a brief warning as he pushed open his car door and rushed towards the retreating figures. 

Heartbeats later, Brian watched helplessly as the bat connected with the blond boy’s head, a sickening *crack* echoed through the garage, and then the youth gracefully sank to the ground. The attacker had already raised the bat again, ready for another swing but looked around at the sound of approaching footsteps as Kinney barreled into him at a dead run, throwing the teen to the ground and knocking the bat out of his hands. Kinney retrieved the bat, thinking to keep the weapon away from the assailant. When the teen attempted to rise as if to escape, Kinney took the bat and callously swung at the boy’s right knee, satisfied when he heard the cracking of bones breaking and saw the attacker fall back to the ground. 

Tossing the bat away from him, Kinney turned back to Justin’s unconscious form, lying in a spreading pool of his own blood. The man rushed over to the boy’s side and knelt, feeling at the injured youth’s neck to determine if there was a pulse. Kinney was too panicked and shocked though to find the right spot - he slumped over the prone figure, tears already streaming down his face. “No, no, no, no, no . . . ” was all he could say for several minutes until his brain finally clicked back into gear and he remembered his cell phone. Pulling the phone out, amazed that he actually had a signal in this underground garage, he called for help.


	3. Happenings at the Hospital.

Chapter 3 - Happenings at the Hospital.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Brian remembered the ambulance arriving at the garage and EMTs moving him out of the way so they could get to Justin. He remembered riding in the hospital, holding the hand of the unconscious boy. He remembered snatches of scenes in various locations at the hospital: the ER, one long bare hallway, several different waiting rooms. He remembered repeated images of Justin, lying on stretchers being carried or wheeled around amid all these different areas. But all the memories were somehow fuzzy and unconnected. How he’d moved from one location to the next was unclear. 

Now, he was again in a different waiting room, this one designated for the families of patients in the operating theaters just down the hall. Justin was in Operating Room #6, he’d been told. They were going to have to drill into his skull to relieve the pressure caused by the swelling from the injury to his right temporal lobe. Brian had been told all of this but still was not sure what it meant and didn’t know what he should do or where he should go right at this moment. So, he was merely sitting here, trying to put back together the pieces of his fractured memories into some semblance of order.

“Mr. Kinney,” his musings were interrupted by a round, petite middle-aged woman holding a clipboard with one hand and pushing up her glasses with the other. “Mr. Kinney. I’m Amanda. I need to follow up with you to get more information about your partner.”

“What?” Brian looked at her with confusion.

“Your partner. Justin Kinney. We need more information to complete his chart and we need to get insurance information.” The woman sat down on the bench next to the dazed man, reaching up to pat his shoulder with a pudgy hand, a well-meaning smile on her kind face. 

My partner? What the fuck? 

He vaguely remembered telling the EMTs that he was Justin’s ‘partner’ when they had tried to stop him from getting in the ambulance with the boy. He didn’t want to be separated from the young man - irrationally convinced that if Justin left his sight somehow the boy wouldn’t make it. It was the only thing he could think of at the time. And the EMTs seemed to buy it readily enough, standing aside to let him in the ambulance.

He could also recall, amidst the chaos as the EMTs were rolling the boy into the ER, someone asking him the patient’s name. He’d thought at first they were asking for his name, so he had answered ‘Kinney’. Then the person had made it clear that they needed the boy’s name, not his, and he had told them the boy’s name was ‘Justin’. At the time though, he could think of nothing except getting the boy into the hospital and getting him to a doctor - he didn’t want to be dealing with all the irrelevant questions the administrative-type was throwing at him. He told the woman to ‘Fuck Off’ and kept following the stretcher and Justin. 

It was obvious what had happened and why the hospital thought the boy’s name was ‘Justin Kinney’ and that the young man was his life partner. And, this was apparently the first opportunity they’d had to track him down for more information about the boy. Brian was about to correct the woman about his relationship to the young man in the OR, but stopped himself. 

“I can help you go through this information if you’d like. I know what you’ve gone through tonight has been very upsetting for you.” The amiable woman prompted him, thinking his hesitation in responding was due to the shock of the trauma his partner had been through.

Brian had no real connection to the boy, though. He didn’t think having known the young man for less than an hour and dancing one dance with him at the boy’s Prom would qualify him as a ‘family member’. And if he wasn’t a ‘family member’ he knew that the doctors would refuse to give him any information about Justin’s condition. He didn’t know the boy or his family. He didn’t know how to contact anyone who might be a family member or close friend. Brian didn’t want to just walk away from here, leaving the beautiful boy without anyone to be here for him, if needed.

Without thinking too much about the consequences, Brian decided not to give himself away just yet. If he just let the hospital continue with their little misconception, he would still be able to talk to Justin’s doctors and find out about his condition. He figured he could clear up the misunderstanding at some indeterminate time in the future. 

So, for now, he merely gave the concerned clerk HIS address, contact information and insurance card. He made a mental note to talk to his accountant first thing in the morning to ask about how to deal with the insurance - he knew it would be a nightmare. And when it came to the health history part of the intake forms, he simply told the woman that they hadn’t been together for that long so he wasn’t really sure how to answer the questions, but he would contact the boy’s family and get more for them later. The kindly woman, still chalking the man’s reticent responses up to shock, didn’t want to press him and said that would be just fine. 

As soon as the woman had disappeared around the corner, he opened his cell phone and speed dialed his best friend, Michael. When the call was answered, he could tell from the thumpa, thumpa music and noise in the background that Michael had gone on to Babylon tonight without him. 

“Hey, Brian. Where are you? We decided not to wait for you at Woody’s. When are you gonna get here?” Michael greeted his friend.

“Listen to me, Mikey. Are you listening?” Brian ordered.

“Yeah, I’m listening,” Michael responded, suddenly aware that there was something wrong. 

“I’m at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center. I need you to run by my place and get me some clean clothes.”

“Shit, Brian. What happened? Are you okay?” Michael interrupted him.

“I’m fine. I’m here . . . . . waiting to hear about a friend who was in an accident. I’ll tell you about it later. Just bring the clothes. Oh, and maybe some toiletries and shit - I don’t know how long I’m gonna be here. I’m in the OR waiting room on the 9th floor. Did you get all that, Mikey?”

“Yeah. I got it. I’ll borrow Ted’s car and get there as fast as I can.”

Brian was sure that his friend would keep on talking so to expedite matters he hung up on him. He had a lot of other calls to make. Brian decided it was just easier to cancel all his morning appointments, since he didn’t know how long he would be here tonight. He called and left instructions with his assistant Cynthia, left a message on Ted’s voice mail since he wasn’t picking up his cell, and then called the Fairmont and left a message for David Remsen with instructions to deliver it first thing in the morning. 

Once all his business concerns were taken care of, he was again at loose ends. Fuck, I hate hospitals! There wasn’t anything more to take his mind off of the horrible events he’d experienced tonight or his worries about the boy. He couldn’t sit any more, he decided, so he got up and started pacing. After about twenty minutes, though, the dirty looks being sent his way from the other occupants of the waiting room, finally got to him enough that he sat down again and waited some more. 

Just when he was about to try the pacing thing again, an attractive twenty-something hispanic man wearing light blue scrubs came towards him. Kinney instinctively began to check the man out, and decided he was definitely fuck-worthy. He would have propositioned the guy, too, if he hadn’t spoken to Brian first. 

“Mr. Kinney? I’m Carlos, one of the OR nurses here. I’ve got your partner’s personal effects here for you,” said the hot young man, holding out a large plastic zip-top type bag towards Brian. Kinney, distracted from his previous plans with regard to Carlos, took the bag. Carlos, just smiled at him and then turned to head back down the hall in the direction of the OR theaters. 

Inside the bag was the now familiar brown leather wallet, a cell phone, a class ring with a large red stone and a set of keys. Brian opened the wallet, looking through the few contents: a PA driver’s license, school ID, library card and one debit card plus some cash. Nothing that would help him find the young man’s family. 

Brian returned the wallet to the bag and pulled out the cell phone instead. Flipping the phone open and powering it on, he figured out how to pull up the contacts list fairly easily and then scrolled through the numbers rapidly. Under the contact nickname ‘Dad’, he found the name Craig Taylor and a cell phone number. Hitting the ‘Call’ button on the phone screen, he raised the phone to his ear and listened while the call rang through.

“Justin. Where are you? You know you were supposed to be home by no later than 12:30. You better have a damn good explanation, young man,” was the loud, angry greeting Brian received as soon as the phone was answered.

“Mr. Taylor. My name is Brian Kinney. I’m . . . .I’m a friend of Justin’s. Justin is your son, correct?” Brian started out, somewhat shakily. 

“Of course he’s my son. Who the hell are you and why have you got his phone?” Craig responded in a less than polite manner.

“Mr. Taylor, your son’s been hurt. He’s here at UPMC. They’re operating on him now,” Brian said, trying not to react to the other’s man’s aggressive tone. 

“What the fuck happened? How bad is he hurt?” Craig sounded genuinely concerned, finally.

“I don’t know much. He was attacked in the parking garage at his Prom. The doctors haven’t really told me anything yet about his status. You should really get down here right away, though.”

“I’m on my way,” Craig said and hung up.

Before he could even put the phone away, Kinney heard a familiar voice and turned to see Michael sauntering into the waiting area. 

“Brian! There you are. God, I’ve been wandering around in this hospital lost . . . .” Mikey’s enthusiastic voice trailed off as he neared Brian and saw the blood on the man’s clothing, hands and face. “Fuck. What the fuck happened to you?”

“I’m fine, Mikey. Nothing happened to me. This isn’t my blood,” Brian rushed to quiet his friend’s fears. 

Before he could even start on a fuller explanation, however, two more individuals entered the waiting room, headed towards where Brian was sitting. Brian looked up expectantly from where he was sitting. The older of the two, reached into his jacket pocket as he neared and was already holding out an ID wallet by the time he stopped in front of the seats holding Brian and Michael. 

“Mr. Kinney? I’m Detective Horvath, Pittsburgh PD. This is my partner. We need to ask you some questions about the incident at the Fairmont earlier this evening,” the older, balding and paunchy detective began. 

“Of course,” Brian complied and launched right into the story of the attack. 

“What happened to the attacker after you hit him with the bat?” Horvath interrupted Kinney’s retelling.

“I don’t know. I was concentrating on Justin. I heard him rolling around cursing and calling us ‘disgusting faggots’. But I wasn’t paying attention to him. I. . . .I was . . . worried about Justin and just tuned the asshole out,” Brian started to explain, but then realized the import of the detective’s comment. “Wait a minute. You mean you don’t have the guy in custody? What the fuck? You let the fucker get away!” Brian rose to his feet so he could look the older man directly in the eyes, his voice getting louder the longer he spoke.

“Calm down, Mr. Kinney,” Horvath ordered. “We’ve already questioned the EMTs and they told us that when they arrived they didn’t see anyone except for you and your partner. You said you hit him with the bat and thought you maybe broke his leg? Could you be mistaken about that? That would explain how he could leave while you were distracted, caring for your partner.”

“I don’t know. I thought I hit him pretty hard. But. . . . it all happened so fast - now isn’t that a cliche?” Brian laughed angrily as he looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap and covered in dried blood, trying to recall those half forgotten moments. He couldn’t remember anything except the sight of the beautiful pale face with the dark red blood smeared down one side. “Sorry,” he finally answered, “I don’t know where the fuck the asshole went. I know I hit him, but maybe I didn’t hit him as hard as I thought.”

“Did you recognize the attacker?” Horvath went on.

“No. I didn’t know him. He was wearing a tux too, though, so I thought he was probably from the Prom.” Brian continued to give a description of the teen who had bashed Justin, while Horvath and his silent partner took notes. 

“How do you know this kid, Brian? And what the hell is all this shit about ‘your partner’,” were the first words out of Michael’s mouth as soon as the police had finished questioning Brian. 

The tired brunet ran his fingers through his hair, stretching his back at the same time and took a deep breath before answering his friend. “It’s a long story, Mikey. I’m too tired to explain it all to you tonight. I really just want to go get cleaned up and change clothes. I’ll call you tomorrow and bring you up to date, okay? It’s getting late and you should head home.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? I could wait with you, Bri.”

“No. I’m fine and I don’t need you to wait here with me. As soon as the boy’s parents show up, I’m out of here too,” Brian responded, pulling Michael out of the chair and turning him to face the exit. “Go home, Mikey.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Brian,” Michael said over his shoulder as he reluctantly left his best friend. 

Brian yawned then bent to grab the overnight bag Michael had brought him and headed towards the restroom just down the hall. Ten minutes later a cleaner, more casual Brian emerged from the bathroom, now dressed in jeans, a simple black tee and running shoes. He was almost back to his bench in the waiting room, when he heard his name being called from down the hall and turned to see a tall dark-skinned man wearing green scrubs and a surgical cap heading his direction. 

“Mr. Kinney. I’m Dr. Tremain. I’ve just finished operating on Justin and wanted to let you know that the surgery went very well,” the man began, holding out his hand to shake Brian’s while he spoke. “We had to drill a small hole into the cranium to release the pressure caused by the swelling. There were some loose bone fragments as well that we had to extract, which can be a delicate procedure, but it seemed to go well. He’s in recovery now.”

“Thanks, doc. Will he be alright?” Brian asked for clarification - it all sounded so horrible to him and he couldn’t understand how the doctor could discuss it all so calmly.

“We just have to wait and see, Mr. Kinney. Brain trauma can be very tricky. We won’t know the full extent of Justin’s injuries until he wakes. We can do some additional tests then. In the meantime, it’s best to try and maintain a positive mindset,” the doctor added, but he had already started to turn and leave, completely unconcerned with Brian’s questions.

“Doctor, can I see him,” Brian yelled after the retreating physician.

“No problem. I’ll tell one of the nurses to come take you back.” And, with that Dr. Tremain disappeared back through the OR doors.

Not exactly reassured by the doctor’s indifferent attitude towards Justin’s case, Brian impatiently awaited a nurse to come take him back to see the boy. Luckily for the nurse, she arrived before Brian’s temper had escalated too much and he eagerly followed her back to Justin’s room.


	4. Dear Old Dad.

Chapter 4 -Dear Old Dad.

The recovery room was just a long, extra-wide hallway area with beds lining one wall, separated from each other by curtains but open on the front. Nurses were moving constantly from bed to bed, monitoring each patient, most of whom were still unconscious, pushing buttons on machines and writing stuff on patient charts. The few patients who were awake were being fussed over, poked and prodded by a variety of nurses, doctors, interns and sundry other official looking people. The atmosphere was far more intimidating than a normal hospital room, thought Brian, who considered regular hospital rooms to be bad enough.

The nurse led Brian to the fourth curtained area and then quickly brought over a straight backed wooden chair for him. He sat gingerly on the chair, intent on the face of the unconscious young man in the bed. 

-He’s fucking beautiful. 

The lesbionic thought escaped his psyche without permission. Brian tried hard to cram it back down into the recesses of his brain but couldn’t quite do it. The boy’s creamy complexion was no longer obscured by streaks of blood and he looked so peaceful lying there. The wads of bandages swathing his head were worrisome, but if you disregarded those and just admired the beautiful planes of Justin’s face, his strong square jaw, his long blond eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, his slightly turned up nose and those full, full, perfectly shaped lips, the youth’s inherent beauty was almost overwhelming. The handsome brunet thought that, even considering all the men he’d known - and there had been a lot of them - he’d never seen even one that he would describe as ‘beautiful’ other than this boy. 

Brian reached over and took the boy’s smaller hand in his own. He was glad to feel the warmth radiating from the skin - the last time he’d held that hand it had been so cold. Holding that soft, warm hand and watching the steady regular breathing of the young man, he finally felt some of the tension and fear that had been weighing on his shoulders evaporate. He gently brought the hand up to his face, rubbing the back lightly across his cheek and tenderly kissing it before lowering it to rest on the hospital blanket. He didn’t let go of the hand though - for some inexplicable reason, he didn’t think he ever wanted to let it go.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
Craig Taylor hurtled up to the nurses station outside the OR and rapped his knuckles loudly against the laminated counter top to get someone’s attention. The crusty, older OR head nurse, looked over her ample shoulder at the arrogant man and rolled her eyes - she knew the type, pushy, demanding and incapable of listening to anything you told them. It was too early in the morning for this, she thought.

“Can I help you, Sir?” she said with a slightly demeaning emphasis on the word ‘Sir’.

“I’m Craig Taylor,” the man stated, as if that name alone should get him some special attention - which it didn’t, so he continued. “My son is supposed to be here - Justin Taylor. I want to know where he is and exactly what his condition is.”

“Honey, you’d best be adding a ‘Please’ to the end of that sentence if you’re planning on getting me to assist you,” the surly nurse drawled, her face not more than a foot away from Craig’s. 

The man pulled his body back slightly, but still glared at the woman. When she didn’t back down even a hairsbreadth, he relented slightly, coughing out a “Please”, clearly against his will.

“That’s better. Now, tell me again who you lookin for.”

“Justin Taylor - T-A-Y-L-O-R.”

“Sorry, sugar. We don’t got no Justin Taylor, according to my records, she said as she scanned the computer monitor at her station. “We do have a Justin Kinney, though. Is that who you’re looking for?”

Craig was confused by the error with the name, but he was sure the guy who’d called him had said this hospital and that he should go to the OR waiting room. He decided to disregard the discrepancy and just plow on to find out what had happened to his son.

“Whatever. Just take me to see my son, right now.” Then, seeing the stern look on the woman’s face he remembered to add, “Please”.

“Carla,” the woman called to a passing red-haired woman. “Take this gentleman to curtain four, would you? Have a great day, Sir.” she added in Craig’s direction as she turned her ample hips and bundled away from the unpleasant man.

Carla, the younger nurse, escorted Craig through the OR doors and down to the right, then through the doors into the Recovery Room. Once they were through the door, she pointed to the fourth bed down and left Craig to find his own way from there. Craig strode over to the indicated bed and was just about to round the curtain when he heard a voice coming out of the curtained-off space, and halted briefly, looking around the curtain edge to determine who was with his son. 

What he saw was a dark haired, thirtyish man sitting next to the hospital bed, holding the hand of the patient, who he noted was definitely his son, Justin. As he watched, the man lifted up the hand he was holding and brought it to his lips, kissing the back affectionately before laying it back beside the sleeping figure. The brunet then reached his right hand up, brushing it lightly against the boy’s cheek, letting out a sigh as he stared at the young man.

“You’re going to be okay, Justin. I’m here. Just rest for now. You will be okay.” the man was saying in a hushed voice as he caressed the downy soft cheek. 

Craig felt the acid in his stomach bubbling at the disgusting sight in front of him. He stood up with his back ramrod straight, his mouth puckering into an angry frown and his eyes blazing out his disapproval. He couldn’t believe the boy had disobeyed him like this. He was so furious that he knew if he didn’t get out of that room immediately and away from the offensive sight, he was going to lose it completely. He turned on his heel directly and practically ran back through the Recovery Room doors, back to the OR waiting room.

The infuriated, red-faced man was pounding back and forth in the waiting room, trying to bring his temper under control and contemplating how he would confront the pervert trying to corrupt his son, when he overheard someone mention the name ‘Justin’, again accompanied by the incorrect last name ‘Kinney’. He looked over towards the entryway to the waiting area, seeing two middle-aged men in bad suits conversing as they looked at matching notepads. Craig stopped his pacing, trying to listen in on the conversation, without being obvious to the men. 

“So, you think this is another ‘gay bashing’, Carl,” said the younger of the two men.

“Looks that way. Two guys dancing together at a high school Prom. One of the boy’s classmates takes offense and decides to teach the fags a lesson. Typical. Unfortunately, we have no real leads on the perp. No cameras in that part of the garage and only the one witness who didn’t know the kid. Plus, you know how the Chief feels about these kind of cases. It’ll get thrown right into the cold case stack. I feel bad not putting more effort into following up on these kinds of cases, but knowing how the higher ups are gonna handle it, well, it’s not really worth it for us to spend much more time on this, I’m afraid,” the older police detective added, resignedly. 

“Yeah. The chief isn’t a big fan of the gays, is he?” commented the younger man as they both started to put their notebooks back into pockets and turn towards the exit.

“Detectives,” the head nurse came trundling over to the two right at that moment. “That boy that was attacked, his father finally showed up. He’s right over there,” she said and the woman pointed directly at Craig.

Craig watched as the two police detectives turned in his direction and started towards him. His rage at the deviant behavior of his son and that man in the Recovery Room had flared up again at hearing the words he’d overheard the two detectives speaking - ‘Gay Bashing’. 

God damn that boy - I’ve already told him that I will NOT stand for any more of that deviant behavior in my house. It’s disgusting just thinking about that. . . .that. . . . man with his hands all over Justin. I feel like I’m going to hurl. I will not have him back in my house, not around his sister, not if he’s turned into some fucking faggot. Craig’s internal ranting continued, repeating the hateful words he’d already uttered to his son on previous occasions.

“Excuse me, Sir. Are you Justin Kinney’s father?” asked the older detective, moving in Craig’s direction.

“No. That is NOT my son,” Craig spat out venomously as he rushed past the two detectives and down the hall towards the elevators leading to the lobby, leaving the confused detectives staring at his retreating back. 

+++++++++++++++++++++

Nurse Clarisse Barton was finishing up her final rounds before leaving for the day. This was the fourth night this week she’d pulled the night shift and she was exhausted. She only had one more patient to monitor though and then she was outta here, thank God. She checked the chart in the plastic tray outside the patient’s door, noting his name, Justin Kinney, his diagnosis and treatment protocols before heading into the spacious private room. 

The early morning light streaming through the east facing windows of the room, lit up a touching scene inside. Clarisse smiled at the picture of the attractive older man, his head cradled on his bent arm resting on the edge of the patient’s bed while the fingers of his other hand lay entwined with the patient’s delicate, lighter toned fingers. They were both sound asleep, the brunet snoring quietly. The nurse hated to wake the man - she’d been told he’d been there all night with his partner - but she needed to get the young man’s vitals and then she could head home. 

Flipping through the chart to find the man’s name, she located the information and then laid a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder, squeezing lightly trying to wake him as gently as possible. 

“Mr. Kinney,” Clarisse said in a low voice. “Mr. Kinney, I’m sorry to wake you, but I need to get Justin’s vitals.”

The groggy man lifted his head, wiping at the small puddle of drool that had accumulated on his cheek as he slept, and slowly got up from his chair, moving so the nurse could get to her patient. 

Brian watched as the nurse read various numbers off the machines attached to Justin, felt his wrist counting the pulse, and checking the levels of the unknown liquids in the I.V. bags slowly dripping into the boy’s arm. He checked his watch noting that it was just past 7:00 am. He couldn’t tell by looking at the nurse’s face if the numbers she was writing in that chart were good news or bad, and he sighed, thinking that once again he would get the blow off if he asked for any information about the youth’s condition. But, nothing ventured, nothing gained. . . . .

“How is he? Please, nobody’s told me anything concrete all night. Just tell me if he’s going to be okay or not. Please,” Brian begged as soon as he thought the nurse was almost through with her chart notes.

Clarisse looked sympathetically at the tired, yet handsome man, earnestly pleading with her for information about his loved one. Normally she would have given a family member the standard hospital line that he would have to wait and talk to the doctor who would be by later in the morning. This charming man looked so wretched, she just didn’t have the heart to give him such bullshit. 

“The doctor would be able to tell you better than me, but . . . I really think he’s going to be all right. He doesn’t show any signs of fever or other distress and his other vitals are strong. And see, this readout here,” Clarisse pointed at one of the monitors, “this shows brain activity. See the gradual increase here. This means his brain is becoming more and more active. Barring any complications, he should be waking up fairly soon.” She reassured the relieved man, patting his shoulder and smiling. “Just stick in there a little longer and hopefully it will be alright,” she added as she backed out the door, happy to see the soothing of the worry lines on the man’s forehead. 

It had been a long and very tiring night for Brian Kinney. Justin was in Recovery for about an hour and a half, then was moved up to the critical care ward, briefly. But, after the doctor had confirmed that the young man was breathing on his own without any trouble and that his vitals had returned to near normal levels, he authorized transfer to a regular patient room. Brian had doggedly trailed along from place to place as the hospital played an expensive version of ‘hot potato’ with the still unconscious boy. Finally, they had moved Justin into this private room, at Brian’s insistence, about 4:00 am. That meant that Brian had gotten three hours of sleep, at best. If he had to be up all night, he thought, he would have rather been doing something much more amusing than the hospital tango. 

Slowly his brain began to function more reliably and Brian started to think over what his plans for the day encompassed. Glancing over at the peacefully slumbering youth in the hospital bed, he suddenly remembered that the boy’s father was supposed to have shown up last night. Where the fuck were they? Brian didn’t want to leave the boy alone in a hospital, especially if he was likely to wake up soon - he imagined that waking up all alone in a strange room and having no idea what happened or how you got there would be pretty shitty. But, if his god damned parents would just get here already, Brian could leave, go home, get a shower and some food and maybe even make it in to work before the whole day was shot. 

Kinney reached into his back pocket and pulled out the boy’s cell phone. He flipped it open and redialed the last number - Craig Taylor’s cell. After five or six rings, a gruff voice answers, “Justin?”

“No. It’s Brian Kinney again. I’m still here at the hospital with YOUR son. What happened to you last night?” Brian was trying to be diplomatic with the man, although he was more than a little angry that Mr. Taylor had just blown off coming to the hospital to see about his son’s well being.

“He’s NOT my son, anymore. If he wants to parade around with all you other fucking faggots, then he can damn well do it someplace else - he won’t be doing it here,” Craig yelled into the phone, hanging up and then angrily tossing the cell phone across the room and into the wall of his bedroom.

“What the fuck!” Brian stared at the phone in his hand, not sure if he should be more confused or insulted. “Where the hell did that come from? Homophobic prick.”   
Looking over at the angelic looking young man in the nearby bed, Brian shook his head dejectedly, and gave up completely on the idea of getting Justin’s parents here to take care of the boy. From what he’d just learned about Craig Taylor, the boy was better off without the asshole. Brian knew what it was like growing up in a house full of hate. He hadn’t had any choice though - he didn’t have anywhere else to go, at least not until he’d met Mikey. But, fuck if he would intentionally send this boy, or anyone else for that matter, back to that type of environment. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d come the to conclusion that some people just shouldn’t be allowed to breed - if they couldn’t be decent parents, providing for and loving their children unconditionally, why the fuck were they allowed to have kids at all. You needed a license to drive a fucking car, to sell food out of a cart on the sidewalk, hell, you even needed a license to own a dog, but ANY fucking breeder with a dick was allowed to make babies. Even completely incompetent asses like Craig Taylor and his own father, Jack Kinney.

-Fuck them all! Brian internally shouted out his personal motto.

He moved back towards the chair next to the hospital bed and let himself fall into it. Compelled to touch the boy again, to make sure he was still there, alive and warm, he grabbed and squeezed the youth’s hand. What could this happy, fun, beautiful boy have done to make his father hate him so much, Brian wondered again. Leaning forward to get a closer look at the lovely face, now glowing in the clear morning light, he was again amazed at the exquisite young man. 

Those coral pink lips looked so soft in this light - Brian simply could not resist - he had to steal just one kiss. Cautiously leaning forward, he let his lips lightly touch those lovely lips, leaving the most feather light kiss there on the warm, smooth, pliant mouth. He was just sitting back in the chair, still touching the boy’s right hand where it lay on the hospital blanket, still relishing that stolen kiss, when he suddenly felt the smaller hand move against his. 

“Justin. Are you awake?” Brian asked, not sure if he’d only imagined the movement. 

The hushed tones of Brian’s voice had done something though, because right then, Brian felt the youth’s hand contract, squeezing his hand very weakly. 

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Time to open your eyes,” Brian coaxed. “The handsome prince already did the kiss thing so now you have to wake up. Justin? Come on, Justin.”

-Jesus, what the fuck am I saying. I’d better check and make sure my dick hasn’t fallen off cause that pile of lesbionic crap I just spouted should not have come from my lips. Get it together, Kinney. 

Brian internally berated himself for the silly sentimental nonsense he was prattling off, but he didn’t stop quietly talking to the young man. He was sure that the boy was finally regaining consciousness, and thought if he kept talking it might help. Sure enough, a few moments later, he noted the boy’s eyelids beginning to flutter and felt another squeeze of his fingers. 

“That’s my boy. Come on, Justin. Open those gorgeous baby blues of yours so I know you’re gonna be alright,” the man doggedly continued for who knew how long.

When Brian was almost ready to give up, the fluttering eyes finally opened just a crack. Brian smiled down at the beauty, waiting to see if the boy was completely awake. The eyes fell closed once again. But as Brian reached up and gently ran his index finger down the boy’s cheek, those big blue eyes popped open all the way and a tentative smile lit up the younger man’s face.

“Welcome back!” Brian laughed as he continued to stroke the soft cheek. Justin gazed up at the magnificently handsome man standing next to his bed and instantly knew he was in love.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Kinney is F**ked.

“I don’t know when I’ll make it back to the office, Cynthia. This whole situation is just so fucked up. Anyway, I’ve gotta go - I see the doctor coming out of the kid’s room and I want to talk to him before he gets away this time. Later.” Brian ended the call with his Assistant and hurried over to intercept Dr. Tremain.

“Hey, Doc. Wait up!” Brian started, trying to keep his temper in check. “What’s the deal, Doc? I’ve been waiting out here in the hall for over an hour since Justin woke up and nobody has told me anything. What the fuck is going on?”

“Mr. Kinney. I’m sorry about not keeping you updated about your partner’s condition. Unfortunately, I was just paged on another matter and I don’t have time to explain things to you right now. I’ll send and intern up to discuss the case with you later,” Tremain stated, already edging away from Kinney, his mind on the next case.

Brian grabbed the doctor’s forearm in a strong grip. “You’re just going to have to make time, Doc. Fuck your pager and your intern. I want some answers, NOW”

The look on Brian’s face was daunting and his words came out in a ferocious growl. Kinney had finally gotten the arrogant Dr. Tremain’s attention. 

“Fine. Let’s go into the consultation room over here. Quickly, though, I only have a minute, Mr. Kinney.”

When the two men were seated in a small room furnished only with a tiny table and three molded plastic chairs and the door was closed, Dr. Tremain tried to put on his best bedside manner and started in on his analysis of Justin Kinney’s case.

“Your partner’s injury was very serious - you already know that. Any trauma to the brain is always difficult to handle and the consequences are unpredictable. In Justin’s case, it appears that there was significant damage to the right temporal lobe of his brain,” said the doctor, indicating the left side of his own head, just above and in front of his ear. “We believe that we repaired as much of the physical damage as we could during the surgery, and he seems to have weathered that pretty well - he’s awake and alert much earlier than I had anticipated. There also does not seem to be any impairment of his physical processes or motor skills. 

“However, there do appear to be some lasting consequences that we did not foresee but which are not uncommon. You see, Mr. Kinney, it appears that Justin has suffered complete retrograde amnesia. Now, there is still significant swelling in the cranial tissues from the injury, and as that is reduced and the damaged tissues begin to heal, these symptoms often abate on their own. There is no way of telling, however, whether or not the young man will recover fully,” concluded the doctor, already beginning to rise as if to leave now that he’d given his expert opinion.

Brian’s hand again darted out and grabbed the doctor’s arm. “Hold on there. What the fuck exactly does all the medical speak mean.”

“Just what I said. Justin appears to have complete retrograde amnesia,” the doctor restated. Seeing the lack of understanding on the other man’s face, he sighed with disdain for all the uneducated masses, but for the sake of satisfying this insistent man, he continued, “Retrograde amnesia means that Justin has lost all memory of his past life.”

“You mean like some fucking soap opera shit? Fuck, I thought that was all a bunch of hokey made up in television studios,” Brian scoffed. “He doesn’t remember anything?”

“As far as I could ascertain, as of this moment, Justin remembers nothing before the time he woke up this morning in the hospital.”

“But, his memory will come back, right?” 

“We really don’t know. You see, there is no real treatment for memory loss. Sometimes the patient’s memories, or at least some of them, come back on their own. Sometimes they don’t. All we can do is treat the physical injuries and hope that, as he heals, Justin will recover those lost memories along the way. In the meantime, at least until the head wound is completely healed, the only thing we can do is keep him calm and comfortable. Don’t try to force him to remember things he can’t - that will only create stress which will impede his recovery. Other than that, all we can do is wait and see,” the doctor explained again. “Now, I really do have to go, Mr. Kinney. I’ll be checking on Justin regularly and you can have the nurse page me if there are any serious concerns.”

Brian remained seated in the small room as the doctor exited and rapidly disappeared down the hallway. He was at a complete loss as to what to do next. There had to be some logical way to deal with this situation, but right at that moment, he couldn’t think of anything.

_-How the hell did I get myself into this mess? Oh, yeah, I couldn’t keep my fucking hands off the cute blond twink. Thinking with the wrong head again! I’m so fucked. ___

__Right then, luckily, his morose thoughts were interrupted by a pretty blonde nurse wearing pink scrubs who knocked quietly on the half opened door of the consultation room._ _

__“Mr. Kinney. Your partner is asking for you,” she told him with a friendly smile._ _

__Brian was still bewildered, but since he didn’t know what else to do, he willingly followed the nurse back to Justin’s room. Somewhere between the consultation room and Justin’s room, he decided that it was time to come clean about his earlier deception, tell the boy and the hospital that he wasn’t really the kid’s partner and get the hell out of here. He would give the hospital Craig Taylor’s phone number, but would warn them about the prick’s earlier behavior, and then let the kid and/or the hospital decide what to do next. He did not have time for this crap._ _

__“Now that Justin is awake, we’ll be removing the I.V. He did lose a lot of blood though so the doctor has ordered that he remain in bed and we’ll continue monitoring his vitals closely. . . . ,” the nurse was busily giving information on Justin’s status and instructions for his ongoing care, although Brian had missed at least half of it. Opening the door, she sang out, “I found him, Justin. Now, you just push the call button if you two need anything,” she concluded, smiling at the two handsome men as she closed the door behind herself._ _

__Brian felt uncharacteristically shy, now that the young man was awake. He slowly headed over towards the bedside chair, occasionally glancing over at the silent boy as he went. He sat and looked up at the boy who was staring back at him intently._ _

___-Now what? How do I tell this kid that he got bashed in the head for no other reason than that he’s gay, that his father is a complete asshole who refused to even come to the hospital to see him and that he’s now on his own because I’m outta here? Yeah, aren’t you glad you woke up to this crap? ____ _

____“Hi. The nurse told me that you are my partner?” Justin started, seeing as Brian hadn’t yet rounded up the courage to say anything. “The doctor says I can’t remember anything because I was attacked and hit on the head. I’m sorry if I don’t remember you. Um . . . . are YOU okay? . . . you look . . .upset.”_ _ _ _

_____-Do it Kinney - Just open your fucking mouth and tell the kid it was all just a big mistake and that you wish him well, but that you’re leaving. Do it. Come on - you have to do this. . . . Shit! I can’t. The doctor said that the kid shouldn’t be stressed out or forced to remember anything - it’ll slow his recovery. Fuck - If I just hadn’t called that asshole Craig Taylor and discovered what a prick he was, I wouldn’t feel so shitty about just leaving right now. Did I mention how fucked I am? ____ _ _ _

______With this internal debate echoing through his mind, Brian felt almost paralysed. He really didn’t have any good alternatives here. However, that big heart, which most people doubted he had at all, won out in the end. Brian just couldn’t knowingly let this kid wind up back with Craig Taylor, or maybe worse, wind up on the streets somewhere. Heaving a big sigh, the handsome man, put on the biggest smile he could manage and looked over at the concerned young man next to him. He would hold off on telling the boy the truth - at least until he was physically healed - and then they could figure out what to do together, he concluded._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m fine, Justin. Just a little overwhelmed. How are you feeling?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well, except for the killer headache, I guess not too bad. So, what now?” The boy was as much at a loss for words as Brian was._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I have no idea, Justin. . . . I have no idea.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______+++++++++++++++++++++++++++_ _ _ _ _ _

______Two days later, Brian was again visiting his ‘partner’ Justin on his way to work. He’d been coming here every morning and evening to sit with the young man, to keep him company and try to cheer the boy up. It was hard - his memory loss was really frustrating Justin, plus the kid was sick of being cooped up in a hospital bed with nothing to do all day. Brian couldn’t blame him. He would go bonkers in the same situation._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Good morning, boys,” said Nancy, the regular charge nurse for the floor. She hustled in, with her usual efficiency to take Justin’s vitals and check on whatever it is the nurses always seemed to be checking on. When she was done, Nancy looked over at the two men and with a great big smile said, “I’ve got good news for you, Justin. Dr. Tremain signed your discharge orders this morning. We just need to change the dressing on your head and get your partner here some take home care instructions and your meds and you can finally head home.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“What? Today? He’s being discharged today?” Brian was definitely not ready for this. He’d thought the boy would be kept in the hospital for a good long time - they had just drilled into his skull for Christ’s sake. Now they were sending him home after only three days? “Is the doctor sure he’s ready?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well, he signed the discharge orders. And, Justin seems to be doing just fine. You ARE ready to get out of here, aren’t you,” she said, directing her comments to the patient, who nodded enthusiastically._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m so ready to leave. I can’t wait to see something other than these four dingy beige walls,” Justin added, beaming his full-on smile in Brian’s direction._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Okay. Well, I wasn’t really ready for this today, but . . . . well, let me just make some calls and I’ll be right back. What time do you think he’ll be ready to leave?” Brian was already pulling his cell out of his jacket pocket and inching towards the door. He was going to need some help on this one._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Mikey. Where are you? . . . . Great. Is Emmett there at the Diner too? . . . . Fabulous. I need you two to run some errands for me. You know that kid I was visiting in the hospital, well it’s a long story, but it looks like he’ll be staying with me for awhile. . . . He doesn’t have anywhere else to go, Mikey. . . . . . It’s just for a little while. Anyway, would you just shut up and listen to me. I need you to go get some groceries for me - there’s jack shit at the loft right now and I won’t be able to do it myself later. I’ll pay you back. . . . I don’t know what to buy. What do eighteen year olds eat? Just get whatever. . . . Great. Now give the phone to Honeycutt. . . . .Honeycutt, I’m sending you shopping. . . . Yeah, I thought you’d like that. I need you to pick up some clothes for a friend of mine who’ll be staying with me for a while. . . . . .”_ _ _ _ _ _

______When Brian was finished sending his minions out on their various duties, and after he’d checked in with Cynthia, advising her to cancel or reschedule all his appointments for the rest of the day, he returned to the room to wait for Justin to be discharged._ _ _ _ _ _

______+++++++++++++++++++++  
“Craig, I just finished talking with Daphne,” Jennifer Taylor said as she pushed through the door to Craig’s home office. “Daphne said that Justin left the Prom with someone else - someone he met at the dance. She didn’t know the guy’s name. She told me she figured he was just getting a ride home with this other boy, so she drove home by herself. She hasn’t heard from him yet either. Now, I’m really worried, Craig. It’s been three days. Craig, are you even listening to me?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yes. I’m listening. I already told you, Jennifer, what the police told me. Justin’s over eighteen - he’s legally an adult - they won’t put out a missing person’s report on him until it’s been at least 72 hours,” Craig lied. He knew where Justin was - or at least where he had been the night of the Prom - and he hadn’t actually spoken to the police. He was still adamant, though, that the boy was a now a complete write off - he wasn’t going to have a god damned faggot living in his house._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well, it’ll be 72 hours tonight. I want you to call the police back and get started on that missing person’s report. Something could have happened to him. I called all the local hospitals already, but none have any records of a Justin Taylor being admitted in the past three days. I’ve called all his friends. What else can we do?” Jennifer was frantic. She hadn’t slept for the past two nights plus she was getting a little ticked off at Craig’s nonchalant attitude._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Jenn, this isn’t the first time Justin’s run away, you know,” Craig responded. “If he doesn’t like living under my rules, then he’s welcome to leave. He’s eighteen and he can damned well take care of himself. If he wants to run off and live his disgusting faggot lifestyle with some guy he met at his Prom, fuck him. He’s not welcome here if that’s the case, he knows it and you know it.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Craig, no one said anything about him running off with that other boy. And, even if he had, he would have at least called or come by to get his clothes and stuff. I can’t believe you’d sacrifice your own son like this just because he’s gay. And yes, I said the word ‘gay’. Like it or not, Craig, we have to deal with reality here.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well, I DON’T like it and I will not tolerate it in my house. That’s final, Jenn.” Craig turned his back on his wife, who shook her head and looked even more despondent._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fine. Just. . . . you promised to call the police again and file that missing person’s report. Please. I just want to know he’s alright. Craig?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I told you I’d call the police. Now, just get off my back. I don’t want to talk about this any more.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_______-Like fuck I will. Jenn was always too soft on the boy. I will not have him back here spreading his abomination. Good riddance to bad rubbish - Kinney is welcome to the little fairy for all I care. ____ _ _ _ _ _

________++++++++++++++++++++++++_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	6. At the Loft.

Chapter 6 - At the Loft.

The heavy grey metal door slid back along its track, and there it was - Home. Well, it was supposed to be home, but Justin couldn’t remember ever having been here before. Nothing he’d seen so far today had been even the littlest bit familiar. He’d been watching out the window of Brian’s Jeep all the way from the hospital, thinking that maybe something - a familiar landmark, the streets, a local shop - anything would trigger some memory for him. But, so far, nothing.

“Wow. This place is amazing,” was Justin’s first comment when he entered behind Brian. “It’s huge. How long have we lived here?”

Brian was caught off guard by the question. He didn’t want to lie to Justin, but the doctor had emphasized that he shouldn’t try to force the boy to remember things - Just let the memories come naturally, was what the pompous ass had told him. So, how did he respond to this kind of question. As usual, Kinney decided to wing it.

“I’ve lived here about eight years now. You just moved in recently though.” Brian thought that was vague enough and, technically, true. “Let me just put your stuff away in the bedroom and I’ll be back out to get you some lunch.”

“I can make it,” Justin yelled after the retreating back.

_-At least I THINK I can make lunch. If I can just find everything._

__Justin was frustrated with his swiss cheese memory and the fact that it wasn’t getting any better. He could remember how to do things - for instance, he’d discovered at the hospital that he knew how to speak Spanish when he found himself conversing with the latina woman who delivered the meal trays - but he couldn’t remember anything personal about his life. So, it was possible that maybe he knew how to cook. But he wouldn’t know if he did or not until he tried._ _

__Heading over towards the kitchen area, he started pulling open drawers and cupboards to find out what was where. He pulled out some bread and lunch meat, some veggies and salad dressing and found a bag of sea salt & vinegar potato chips. It looked like he would be making sandwiches - nothing too challenging in that._ _

__“Brian, do you want a sandwich?” Justin yelled into the other room, happy to see the man coming towards him, already changed out of his unnecessary business clothes._ _

__Justin momentarily forgot what he was doing though since the sight of Brian, who was now wearing only a pair of faded jeans, not completely buttoned up, wiped all other thoughts out of his mind._ _

___-God, the man is gorgeous. I can see every muscle. Not a fucking ounce of fat anywhere. Ohhh, yeah. ____ _

____“Justin? Did you hear me?” Brian said, a little concerned at the glazed look in the young man’s eyes. “I said turkey on wheat bread - no mayo.”_ _ _ _

____“Ummm . . . .sure.” Justin replied, trying to stuff his eyes back into his head and wiping his mouth to make sure he hadn’t been drooling. “Coming right up!”_ _ _ _

____Brian went over to a desk in the far corner and pushed a button on the answering machine, listening to his messages, but deleting most of them before the caller got out a second sentence. Apparently there was nothing important, so he ambled back over and took a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island and watched Justin assembling their lunch. He was glad to see that both Michael and Emmett had completed their assignments and even had time to put everything away for him before they got here - it would be easier on Justin, he thought._ _ _ _

____Two sandwiches and a simple green salad were ready in a flash. Justin served them both and then came around to sit next to Brian. The men ate in silence, both a little unsure of what to say. For the most part, they had clicked well back at the hospital. They had chatted about random things - television programs, news items, the gossip and happenings around the hospital, and Brian telling Justin about his work. They’d seemed to have an easy comradery. Not so anymore though. Here at the loft, they were both suddenly tongue-tied._ _ _ _

____Justin was having particular trouble. He was intensely aware of Brian’s closeness on the next stool. The man still hadn’t put a shirt on either. Because of this, he was not only finding it hard to come up with something to say - he was having trouble breathing. He tried to eat his sandwich, but wasn’t sure he could swallow, so he put it back on the plate._ _ _ _

____The scent of Brian’s cologne was strong, sitting this close, and it wasn’t helping matters at all. What Justin desperately wanted to do right now was to reach out and touch that beautiful golden skin, run his hands over the firm muscles and maybe have Brian for lunch instead. But, he didn’t really know how to initiate that process, so he just sat there, mute, with his hands folded on his lap in a vain attempt to hide the boner which would like nothing better than to tent up the scrub pants he’d borrowed from the hospital._ _ _ _

____Once again, Justin’s faulty memory was causing problems. He’d been told that he and Brian were partners. That felt right to him - he was definitely attracted to the man and he knew, somehow, that he was truly gay - but something about it was just a little off. Brian hadn’t really made any advances towards him the entire time he’d been in the hospital. Of course, he’d kissed Justin hello and goodbye but those kisses were on his cheek or forehead. They’d held hands a lot, too, but that’s where it had ended. If they really were partners, Justin thought that there should be more. . . . . well more touching and definitely more kissing. Brian had always seemed just a little distant though, and Justin was unsure what to do, especially as he couldn’t remember anything about their relationship._ _ _ _

____But, it was getting to the point that Justin didn’t really care what he remembered and what he didn’t. If Brian didn’t do SOMETHING soon, he would either explode or lose control completely and jump the sexy brunet. Screw the hospital’s warning against strenuous activity. Justin was horny as hell and needed release any way he could get it. So, he gathered up all his courage, and laid his hand on the older man’s thigh, squeezing slightly in invitation, but not quite daring to look up at the man._ _ _ _

____Brian, meanwhile was have similar problems. He was conflicted about how he should treat this young man that had come to be in his care in such an unexpected manner. There was no denying the chemistry between them, but Brian was still feeling guilty about not being completely honest with Justin. And he thought that if this was only a temporary thing, and he did intend to tell the boy everything as soon as he thought Justin was ready, well then, Brian didn’t think it was fair of him to start anything._ _ _ _

____On top of everything else, he still wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing with this guy in his loft - this was virgin territory for the man whose regular policy was ‘No deposit, No returns’. How did the Stud of Liberty Avenue end up with a disabled blond twink LIVING with him? This did not fit into the standard Kinney operating manual. He couldn’t just kick the kid out in the morning if things didn’t go well. So, what the hell was he going to do with the boy?_ _ _ _

____Luckily for both men, as soon as Brian felt that tentative, warm touch on his thigh and the gentle squeeze, all his mental processes shut down completely and his libido took control. Laying his own larger hand over Justin’s, he moved the boy’s hand up to palm his crotch, and the younger man eagerly groped the hardening shaft through Brian’s jeans. Brian then turned on his stool, pulling the younger man to face him and raised both his own hands to cup the boy’s face, bringing it close enough to kiss. Except for that one stolen kiss in the hospital, he’d managed to hold back his desires for the last three days. Now though, he held back nothing, forcefully pressing his mouth against the tasty, pouty lips he’d been admiring for so long._ _ _ _

____Justin’s hands had moved upwards all this time and he was happily letting them wander over that perfectly tanned chest and the strong shoulders that he’d been dying to feel. Brian’s skin was so smooth and warm to his touch. He wanted to touch every part of this delicious man. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough._ _ _ _

____Brian was thinking the same thing about Justin’s oh-so-inviting lips right at that moment. He remembered from the night of the dance how sweet they had tasted - he’d chalked it up to the boy having just eaten or drunk something at the Prom. But those amazing lips still tasted just as sweet today. Brian was thoroughly happy to nibble and lick and suck on that tasty treat enjoying at the same time the feeling of the boy’s hands lightly caressing his body. When he pressed the kiss harder, the boy opened his mouth willingly allowing Brian’s tongue full access. He spent a few minutes exploring with his tongue, but was taken by surprise when he felt the younger man’s hands now at his fly, pulling the jeans apart one button at a time._ _ _ _

____Brian was happy to acquiesce to the needy groping hands, and stood up, pulling the smaller man’s frame closer to his own. He wrapped one arm around Justin’s waist, easily managing to work his way underneath the loosely fitting scrub shirt so he could feel warm, smooth skin. With his other arm he grabbed behind the boy’s neck, trying to pull him in for even deeper kisses._ _ _ _

____That was when the older man’s hand brushed against the bandaging wrapped around the youth’s head, still holding the sterile gauze pad against the not-completely healed incision over the small missing section of bone._ _ _ _

_____-Shit. What the fuck am I thinking! ____ _ _ _

______Brian pulled back from the kiss so quickly that Justin almost lost his balance. The younger man’s eyes were a darker, lust-filled blue than usual and his thoroughly kissed lips were now swollen and had turned a deep cherry red. Not realizing what had caused the other man to stop, Justin tried to reach up and draw Brian back into another kiss, but the older man stepped back even further, creating a gap between their now heated bodies. Justin followed, taking a step forward for each step Brian took backwards._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Justin, stop. We really can’t be doing this,” Brian tried to reason with the lad. “You just got out of the hospital today. You’re not completely healed from the surgery even. Fuck. My instructions specifically say ‘no strenuous activity’ and if we don’t stop right now, I can guarantee things are going to get very strenuous, very quickly.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______This finally penetrated the lust-filled teen’s mind, causing Justin to pause in his tenacious pursuit of the retreating brunet. He knew Brian was right - it was just that his dick really didn’t care. The fact was now patently obvious since the baggy sweat pants he was wearing were stretched out a good eight inches or so away from his crotch. Justin looked down at the little problem in his pants and then looked back at Brian, the amused look on his face causing the older man to break out in laughter, and the boy joined in. The easy laughter broke the tension and both men relaxed a bit, backing off from their raging ardor._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Come on, little boy,” Brian directed, slipping an arm casually around Justin’s shoulders and walking him towards the bedroom. “If you’re not going to eat, then I think it’s time for a shower and then a nap. The rest of this can wait for later.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fine,” capitulated the still hard young man. Then he added with a perfectly mischievous grin, “but, I’ll need someone to help me wash my back.” With that, Justin reached down and pulled off his shirt in one fluid motion, grinning and raising his eyebrows impishly while Brian stood watching from the bathroom doorway. When Brian didn’t seem to respond at all, the boy untied the knot holding up the baggy pants, letting them fall into a puddle at his feet, and walked towards the shower stall, wiggling his perfectly round butt cheeks enticingly in Brian’s general direction._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Arghhh. You’re killing me here, Justin,” was Brian’s tortured response. Then he added, “better make that a cold shower.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_______-I’m going to be needing one too. How long did those instructions say he had to avoid strenuous behavior? A week, I think. Shit. I think if my dick gets any harder I might pop a blood vessel. Hope the boy takes long showers. ____ _ _ _ _ _

________Brian allowed himself to collapse back onto his bed, undoing the last few buttons Justin hadn’t yet gotten to on his fly, and reached over to the side table for the lube. He had to get rid of this wood somehow and he figured the boy was doing the same thing in the shower, so . . . ._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________All Brian could think about as he started to stroke himself was that perky, sweet little blond ass and that it was going to be a very, very long week._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	7. Justin Settles In.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, the formatting for this story doesn't seem to work right when I post the chapters here. I've tried to indent any 'thoughts' the characters have and the paragraph is started with a "-". Can't seem to get these passages to show in italics, though. Sorry if this is confusing. TAG

Chapter 7 - Justin Settles In.

Brian had been gone for more than an hour now and Justin was starting to get really bored. He was actually glad at first when the call came in from Kinnetik about some emergency or other that Brian had to be there to handle. The curious young man wanted to spend some time wandering around the loft to see if anything would trigger any memories. He also thought it would be easier to snoop around the loft with Brian gone. So, the intrepid explorer had spent the past hour digging through drawers, cupboards, file cabinets and everywhere else he could think of to try to find some pieces of his missing life. So far, though, he’d found nada, zip, zilch, rien, or in other words, nothing. 

There were no papers in any of the files he looked at with his name on them. He’d even gone onto the computer but didn’t find any files there that looked like they would be his - Brian’s files were all labeled and organized so it was clear that they all belonged to him specifically. He’d gone through the books on the small bookcase in the living room but didn’t see any that sparked any memories, and he thought most of them seemed pretty dry - not something he thought he would read. All the toiletries in the bathroom that Brian had told him were his also looked brand new and unused.

The most confusing things though were the closet and chest of drawers. When he’d finally awoken from his nap earlier, Brian had pulled out some clothes for him while he was in the bathroom, so he hadn’t yet had a chance to go through the closets himself. Now that he had, he had a weird feeling. First of all, Brian had sooooo many clothes - you could easily tell which were his both by the size and the style - but Justin could only find a smattering of clothes that would fit him. 

And the style of the clothes. . . . well, did he really wear stuff like this? Almost all the clothes he found were flashy - brightly colored, sparkly, rather skimpy and, well, just not him. At least, not what he felt should be HIM. There was nothing that he felt would just be comfortable. He knew from the moment he’d opened his eyes and seen Brian that he was gay, but, he didn’t think he was THAT gay! 

The only things in the whole loft that sparked any interest from the confused young man were some sketches and graphic drawings he’d found on the desk in a file that looked like it came from Brian’s work. Justin had taken that file with him over to the couch and was still looking through the pictures and reading the notes in the file about the ad campaign they were meant for. He’d been looking through that file for quite a while now and was starting to lose interest, wondering when Brian would get back. 

Then, one matted drawing caught his attention and he had spent more than ten minutes staring at that one image - It was an ad layout for a line of outdoor apparel (hiking boots, wool socks, thermal shirts, etc.). Justin knew that there was something not quite right about the picture but he couldn’t immediately figure it out. Then, it just came to him - the perspective was wrong. The way the objects in the picture were laid out drew the viewer’s eye away from the hiking boot they were trying to sell rather than focusing it on the target object. Without really stopping to think about, Justin found a blank piece of paper at the back of the file and a pencil and started to redraw the ad the way it should be with the perspective corrected. 

When Justin heard the loft door sliding open a half hour later, he looked down at the drawing he’d been working on and something clicked in his brain. He was an artist - he knew it. This was something that felt right and he could tell he wasn’t half bad either. 

He was so exhilarated by the discovery of what felt like his first real memory, he jumped off the couch and ran towards Brian, who was just entering the loft, his hands full with his briefcase, Thai take out and a few rental videos. Justin was too excited to notice. The young blond launched himself at the older brunet from several feet away, giving Brian only a second or two to drop everything he’d been holding and catch the energetic boy in his arms. 

“I’m glad to see you too, Justin, but you could have waited for me to put the food down at least,” Brian said to the squirming, laughing bundle of blond energy in his grasp.

“I’m an artist, Brian! I’m an artist! Look - I can draw. See,” Justin had sprung out of Brian’s arms and was now bouncing on his toes, laughing and shoving his drawing in the other man’s face, demanding that Brian look at it immediately. 

“Stop bouncing so I can actually look at the thing.” Brian put both his hands on the youth’s shoulders, trying to hold him down and tamp his enthusiasm long enough to glimpse the paper Justin was waving in front of him.

Finally giving up on calming the bouncing, over-excited blond, Brian simply snatched the paper out of Justin’s hand and took it off to the desk where he could look at it under the light. He immediately recognized the image - it was part of the Columbus Sportswear campaign he’d been working on for the past three weeks. But this drawing was different somehow from the layout he was used to seeing. Looking around to find the file he knew should be around somewhere, he finally saw the pile of papers and ad boards on the couch and headed over to compare this drawing with the original. 

“You did this, Justin?” Brian questioned the slightly calmer boy.

“Yeah. I did. See, the perspective was off in this one, here. See how it draws the attention off the shoes towards what should just be background. So, I redid it - see over here - now the focus is corrected and you notice the shoes more prominently. I also made a few other little changes,” Justin was beaming with pride over his changes and so eager to explain to Brian what he’d done. When the ad man didn’t say anything though, Justin asked with a worried tone, “do you like it?”

“No. I don’t like it,” Brian teased the boy. “I fucking LOVE it. This is perfect. I’d been staring at that board for days trying to figure out what was wrong with it and you just pick it up and figure it out like that *snap*. You are amazing, Justin.”

Brian then tossed the board and Justin’s revision aside, cinched the delighted youth around his waist and pulled the boy into a congratulatory kiss. The celebratory kiss became deeper and more passionate as the minutes ticked by, but neither man noticed at first. Before too long, though, Brian had to push the overly eager blond off of him, determined to keep some boundaries, at least until the boy’s injuries were fully healed.

“Are you hungry?” he asked the young blond dynamo, who was still visibly full of energy. “I picked up some Thai for us - provided it didn’t all spill out when you attacked me and I dropped the bag. Here, you take these videos and I’ll get the food served.”

The remainder of the evening passed in an enjoyable haze as the two men ate the Thai food while seated on large cushions in the living room and watching one of Brian’s favorite movies, The African Queen. When the movie ended, Justin was sitting snuggled up against Brian’s chest with the older man’s arm wrapped around him. Neither felt like getting up right away so they just let the credits play, sitting quietly enjoying the moment.

It was Justin who eventually broke the silence. “What do I do, Brian,” he asked earnestly.

“What do you mean,” Brian returned, although he thought he already knew where this was heading and wasn’t sure exactly how to handle it.

“I mean, what work do I do. I must do something. I don’t just sit around here all day, do I? “

“Well. . . .until recently you were still in school,” Brian equivocated. It was the truth, just not all of the truth. 

“Okay, so what else do I do other than school? Didn’t I have any plans to do anything beyond school. I know I like art - do I work in an art related field? I have to DO something, Brian. Or am I just your love slave - a kept man,” Justin playfully asked, backing off when he realized that Brian was uncomfortable with his questions. 

“You know, I always did want a love slave. Now that you mention it, that would suit me just fine. You can start immediately.”  
Justin pretended to slug Brian in the gut, playing along and giggling at the idea, but turned serious almost at once. 

“Really, Brian. Can’t you tell me anything?”

“The doctor said that we shouldn’t try to force your memories, we need to let things come back to you gradually. I . . . . I don’t want to push you.” Brian guiltily offered a partial explanation as to why he didn’t want to answer Justin’s questions.

“Fine. Just tell me one thing. I have a right to know this: What about my family? I know that I’m only eighteen and you said I’ve only recently finished school. So, where is my family? I haven’t lived here very long - that’s what you said - so I had to live somewhere before. Please, tell me, Brian.” Justin pleaded.

What could Brian say? “I’ve only ever spoken to your father, Justin. He . . . he didn’t really approve of your being gay. He . . . well, he basically abandoned you because of it. I did try to call him when you were in the hospital, but he refused to come. I’m sorry. And I don’t really know anything about the rest of your family.” Again, the truth, but not the whole truth.

Justin fell quiet after that. Brian had really been enjoying himself earlier and regretted having to tell the youth about his asshole father - it was a real buzz kill. He didn’t want the evening to end on that pissy note, so he went with his standard plan for all awkward situations - distraction.

“Hey, Justin. Look at me,” he whispered as he turned the boy’s chin so they were now eye-to-eye. “Your father might be a total prick, but that doesn’t mean anything. You don’t have to live by his rules or hide who you are. No one should have to suffer that. So, just forget about him. And, as for what you are going to DO - well, what do you want to do? Whatever it is, we can probably figure out a way to make it work. Unless of course you want to be a Sumo Wrestler - I just don’t think you have the build for that” 

That off the wall comment managed to elicit a thin laugh from the young man and maybe worked to distract him a little. “I want to be an artist,” Justin finally stated.

“That’s what you told me the first time we met,” Brian chuckled and smiled, looking into those incredible, trusting, bright blue eyes, while his fingers involuntarily traced patterns on Justin’s shoulder. “We were both admiring the same painting and you bumped into me and we just started talking. Then. . . .” Brian was going to say more but stopped himself. 

-That’s enough disclosures for one night. And, enough silly sentimentalism. I’ve gotta stop watching Bogart movies - they always do this to me. 

“Enough. It’s late and you need your rest, young man, at least that’s what it says on my instructions sheet. So, time for bed. Come on.”

Justin became reanimated almost at once upon hearing those words. He jumped up off the cushion, grabbed the plates and dirty dishes and took them to the kitchen, quickly dumping the cartons in the trash and loading the dishes into the dish washer. Brian tidied up on the living room and then waited apprehensively for Justin to join him. 

Brian had been thinking about how to handle their sleeping arrangements pretty much all day. With only one bed, there really weren’t many options - not unless one of them was banished to the couch. He hadn’t come up with any brilliant solutions, though, in spite of all the thought invested in the problem. So, as usual, he had finally come to the conclusion that he would just have to play it by ear and let whatever was going to happen, happen. Typical Kinney M.O.

Leading the way, Brian took the two steps up to the bedroom, and removed his jeans, but left his briefs on. He then went to the bathroom to take care of business. By the time he had returned to the bed, Justin was already on the far side, tucked under the duvet and lying on his side so he faced the bathroom door. For the first time in his life, Brian actually felt butterflies at the thought of getting into bed with another man. He mentally slapped himself for being such a little pussy, and promptly slid under the covers, lying flat on his back.

“Goodnight, Justin,” he tried to say with a careless air (secretly, though, he didn’t think he quite managed it). 

Justin didn’t reply. He just smiled over at Brian, and wiggled his compact frame closer to long, lean, tanned body next to him. Brian was trying to take deep breaths and ignore Justin while concentrating on something very non-stimulating, like fat, naked, hetero women. It wasn’t working very well so far, though. 

Justin eventually squirmed and wiggled until he was pressed up against the side of Brian’s body from mid-chest down to his knees. The little tease then coyly lifted his left leg slightly, sliding it over Brian’s thigh and wrapping it around until his groin was rubbing against the man’s hip. Brian couldn’t control the groan that that maneuver brought to his lips. He could tell that Justin had definitely NOT left his briefs on and that the hot young blond wasn’t trying in the least to control any of his desires. 

-Non-strenuous. Non-strenuous. Non-strenuous. Fuck, that feels good. He’s so hard. Non-strenuous. Remember, non-strenuous. God, for a small guy he’s pretty well endowed. Oh, his cock is dripping all down the side of my hip. Non-strenuous. Shit, now he’s stroking my cock, the little fucker. Non-stren. . . . Fuck it!

Driven far beyond his breaking point by the sensuous and determined young thing who refused to keep his hands to himself, Brian gave up, rolled over to face the threat and quickly determined the least strenuous thing possible under the situation. He pulled the boy’s hips closer so their erections were rubbing against each other, then taking both cocks in his hand, he began to pump steadily, working them together. The sensation of the other man’s cock rubbing against his, added to the firm, repeated stroking sensation, brought both men to an almost immediate climax. Justin shot his load first in a warm, thick stream, running through Brian’s fingers and the older man came with the next stroke. Both men were moaning as their jizz washed over their stomachs. Justin reached over to trail his fingers through the mess, up over Brian’s chest and into the brunet’s mouth, encouraging the other man to reciprocate. 

When they were done tasting each other, Brian pulled up a corner of the sheet and used it to wipe both of them off. He then gently pressured the younger man to roll over and pulled the smaller body into his, spooning the now relaxed and sated young blond.

“Go to sleep, Justin. That’s as much strenuous activity as you’re gonna get tonight,” Brian breathed into his ear, and punctuated the sentence with a tiny kiss. As he quickly drifted off to sleep, Brian felt his mind wandering over the events of this amazing, frightening and oddly comforting day.

-Horny little twat. God, I can’t wait to fuck him. If he’s this enthusiastic about a hand job, just think. . . . . He’s so warm. It’s like cuddling up to a furnace. . . . Feels good though. . . .Shit, was I just thinking about cuddling. . . . Oh yeah, I’m so fucked.


	8. Time to Get to Work.

Chapter 8 - Time to Get to Work.

Brian’s nose was being tickled by something. His groggy brain thought it must be an insect so he brushed at the annoyance, but the ticklish feeling came right back. Cracking his eyes open the tiniest sliver he saw a blur of yellow. Now at least a quarter awake, he tried to shift his body, attempting to move away from whatever was bugging him, only he couldn’t move his left arm because there was a heavy weight on it. That got his immediate attention - what the fuck was in his bed? He sat up abruptly, thankfully dislodging whatever it was, and practically bolted out of bed. 

The heavy lump, completely covered by the duvet, made a soft noise halfway between a purr and a moan and then moved. The movement caused the duvet to slide down the bed slightly, revealing a bare foot and half an elbow. Brian let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, finally remembering exactly why there was a foot and half an elbow in his bed this morning. The image brought an amused smile to his lips - it had been so long since he’d allowed a trick, or anyone else for that matter, to stay overnight, that he’d completely forgotten what it was like to wake up next to another warm body. 

He glanced at the clock, noting that it was still very early - He wouldn’t normally be out of bed before 7:00 am. But, thinking about that warm, blond-haired lump, got him thinking about what the hell he was going to do with the boy today. Shit. He hadn’t really thought that far ahead, had he? Coffee. He needed coffee. Coffee would help. Coffee first, then think of a solution. 

Twenty minutes later and halfway through his first cup of coffee, the gears and motors in his brain finally meshed and Brian Kinney became, once again, capable of rational thought. First order of business: Something for Justin to DO. Preferably something that would keep him occupied not just for today but for the foreseeable future. 

The first logical thought was to send him back to school. There were a few problems with that idea, though. First, he didn’t know exactly where that was. He could probably figure out the name and location of the school pretty easily though, if he wanted to. The second and third issues with this idea, though, made him hesitate. 

The second problem was Justin’s father. Brian was sure that if he sent the boy back to his old school, that asshole Craig would find out and he didn’t know where that would lead. He’d only talked to the man twice on the phone and already hated him with a passion. Brian’s past experiences with bigoted fathers, particularly his own, made him very leery of doing anything that might put Justin back within his father’s reach. 

The third problem, though, was the one that firmly decided Brian against the school option - the Prom attacker. The police said they hadn’t found the guy that Brian thought he’d disabled. That meant that the guy got away clean. From what the police had said to him the other night at the hospital, he got the feeling they weren’t making this case a priority, which meant that whoever had it in for Justin was still out there. Brian had spent a lot of time trying to remember anything he could about the kid with the bat - he thought that he’d seen the kid somewhere at the hotel before the garage incident, he just couldn’t recall exactly where. He was sure, though, that the attacker had been at that Prom and therefore was probably also from the same school. And no way was Brian going to send Justin back to anyplace where the guy who almost killed him was still likely to be found. School was definitely out.

Unfortunately, no other ideas came to Brian right away, so he decided to head over to his computer and check his email. Before he even had time to switch the box on, he caught sight of the Columbus Sportswear file, still sitting out on the desk. He opened the file and looked at the revised ad layout Justin had sketched the prior day and nodded his head.

-Brilliant as always, Kinney! Looks like it’s take your adopted trick to work day! *Ha Ha*

The perfect solution: Justin could come work for him at Kinnetik. Brian’s company was just starting out and they really could use the help. So far it was just him, Cynthia, Ted and one part-time graphic artist. They’d been contracting out any large jobs to students and local artists. But, looking at the work Justin put out in just a few hours, without anything other than paper and a pencil, made him think that with the right tools Justin could really do something amazing. Justin had said he wanted to be an artist, so Brian would put him to work as one! 

If it didn’t work out, Brian thought that Justin could at least help around the office with administrative stuff. Plus, he would be where Brian could keep an eye on him - the kid had just had his brain cut open four days ago, for Christ sake. But the hospital instructions didn’t say that Justin had to stay in bed or anything, just that he should take it easy - the all important ‘no strenuous activity’ clause. Brian didn’t think sitting at a desk drawing all day constituted anything strenuous and if Justin got tired, he could lie down on the couch in the conference room. 

Now that he had a plan, Brian felt energized and he set about immediately to get everything in place to make this work. By the time the alarm went off at 7:00 am, he had everything arranged. 

-Time to get this party started. God, I hope this works.

“Rise and shine, sleepy head,” Brian sang, pulling the duvet off the bed lump and setting a cup of hot coffee on the nightstand next to Justin. 

Justin was apparently NOT a morning person. The boy actually growled at Brian, tugging ineffectively at the duvet while rolling over so that he faced away from the grinning man. The sight of a completely naked, bed-headed, blond twink rolling in his sheets was counterproductive to Brian’s plans, though. Brian decided to release his hold on the duvet so the lump could recover itself. Brian then sat down on the edge of the bed and uncovered the blond head just enough to allow him access to the sleepy, warm lips.

“Justin, come on and wakey, wakey,” Brian laughed down at the boy, then bent over and planted a good morning kiss on the slightly parted lips, eliciting a smile from the blond beauty. 

“Brian,” purred the former bed lump as he stretched and then yawned like a cat just waking from a nap in the sunshine. “Mmmmm. Good morning. Are you sure we really have to get up?” the warm, cozy blond pleaded.

“As much as you are tempting me to crawl right back in there with you, Justin, we have an appointment this morning. So, you are going to have to give me a rain check. Now, come on, get a shower and I’ll change that bandage for you.”

One of Justin’s warm, long-fingered hands crept out from under the covers, stroking Brian’s thigh. “Are you sure?” came the teasing response as the naughty hand hooked itself over the waistband of the sweats Brian was wearing and began to tug. 

“Argh. You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you,” Brian groaned, but nonetheless unhooked the wandering hand, bringing it to his lips for a brief kiss and then gently dropping it as he rose from the bed. Brian then headed back towards the kitchen, with a shouted, “up!”

With a less than helpful Justin slowing down the process at every possible stage, it took more than forty-five minutes to get the two of them up, showered, dressed and out the door. It didn’t help much that he was having to fend off the youth’s rather blatant sexual advances every five minutes, while Brian fought to keep his own desires firmly under control. But finally, Brian herded his young ward out the door and down to the car, intending to somehow get a quick bite to eat at the Diner, as usual, and still make it to the office by 8:30. 

As they got into the Jeep, Justin was prattling on about how hungry he was and what he was planning on ordering for breakfast. As he contemplated the sheer size of the breakfast the youth was describing, the thought that Debbie would love having someone around who ordered more than toast and coffee for a change, popped into his head. That thought was followed immediately by the expected, ‘Oh, shit’ moment when Brian realized that Debbie didn’t know anything about Justin and would definitely cause problems and ask awkward questions if they just walked into the Diner together. 

Thinking quickly, Brian handed Justin his cell phone, reciting the Diner’s number by heart and directing the boy to call in his breakfast order ‘to go’. They could just as easily eat when they got to Brian’s office and it would keep the ever-inquisitive Debbie at bay for a little while. He would have to call Debbie later and explain things to her when Justin wasn’t around. 

Brian drove around in circles for a few minutes before heading to the Diner, just to make sure that Deb would have time to get the order ready and he wouldn’t be forced to stay and gab with her any longer than needed. When they did arrive, Brian pulled the Jeep up and double parked in front of the Diner, leaving Justin in the car as he dashed through the front door, drawing more than the usual amount of attention due to his uncharacteristicly rapid pace. 

“Hey, Deb. Is my order ready?” Brian thought he’d try for the uncaring, nonchalant approach and hope Debbie was too busy to comment on the change from his normal routine.

“Brian. Good morning,” the larger-than-life red headed women belted out. “Why are you in such a hurry this morning, huh?” Debbie rarely waited for people to answer her questions, though, and as was typical, she moved right on to the next topic without bothering. “So, you feeding an army today, or what? Mr. Dry Wheat Toast ordering scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, country biscuits, and orange juice - I nearly flipped my wig when I took the order. Ha!” 

“I have a breakfast meeting. That usually entails having breakfast foods available, right?” Kinney snarked.

“Whatever, Brian. Don’t bite my head off - it’s too early! Here you go!” Debbie handed him the large carrying tray with bags and cups of liquid and Brian handed her a few bills. 

“Keep the change. Later!” Brian sighed in relief at the relatively smooth transaction, as he backed out the door and turned toward Justin and the waiting Jeep.

“Morning, Bri! Where’s the fire, Honey? Aren’t you gonna come in and join us?” Brian heard the dulcet, Southern-accented tones of Emmett Honeycutt, who was standing directly behind him, now holding open the door for his friend. 

-Damn! I just can’t catch a break this morning. I gotta find another place to have breakfast.

“Sorry, Honeycutt. We’re double parked. Can’t stay,” Brian shot back at the tall, lanky queen, moving for the Jeep as fast as he could.

“Don’t call me Honeycutt,” Em reminded Brian for the hundredth time. That was when Emmett noticed the cute, young blond with the uncertain smile waiting in Brian’s Jeep. Not his usual type, Emmett thought as he hollered a quick, “See you later, Bri!” to the already departing duo.

Brian sighed with relief when he finally drove up to Kinnetik’s main (okay, only) office five minutes later. He grabbed the carry tray of food and ushered Justin in through the front doors and straight back to his office, pausing only briefly to greet Cynthia on the way. He started unpacking the food while Justin wandered around curiously examining everything.

“You still haven’t told me what I’m doing here this morning, Brian,” Justin began, heading back to the now ready meal on the corner conference table. As he sat, he added, “nothing here looks familiar at all. Have I ever been here before?”

“No, you haven’t visited before,” Brian responded, sitting at the table as well, reaching for one of the coffees and stealing a strip of bacon away from Justin. “But then, this IS your first day of work, so there wasn’t really any reason for you to be here before.” 

“Huh?” Justin dropped his fork and turned to stare at the smirking brunet leaning back in the chair next to him. “My first day of work?”

“Yep. You said you wanted to be an artist and you weren’t happy being a kept man anymore, so here you go. You are now the newest member of the Kinnetik Art Department.” Brian’s smile was almost as big as Justin’s when he saw how happy his little surprise made the boy.

“Brian, you’re unbelievable! Thank you,” Justin raved and sprung out of his chair to wrap his arms around the older man’s neck while depositing a flurry of grateful kisses on Brian’s lips, cheeks and hair. 

A few seconds later though, Justin’s happy expression faded a bit and he asked, “What if I can’t do this? Are you sure that I won’t screw everything up? I don’t think I’ve ever worked in a job like this, have I?”

“You’ll do fine, Justin,” Brian tried to reassure the insecure young man. “You already helped me on the Columbus Sportswear boards and did a great job.” Brian grabbed Justin’s hands in his, calming the worried man and looked into his earnest eyes. “You ARE an artist, Justin. You have a lot of talent. Believe me, I want you here. I need your talent”

Thankfully, Ted knocked at the door and, waiting only briefly before sticking his head inside, effectively cut off any further sentimental drivel Brian might have been tempted to utter. 

“Perfect timing, Theodore,” Brian looked up at his CFO. “Have you got all the paperwork?”

“Morning, Brian. Hi, Justin. I’ve got everything right here,” Ted stated briskly. 

Brian had called Ted first thing this morning and explained about wanting to employ the injured young artist, asking that all the administrative documents be ready when they arrived. Of course Ted already knew a little bit about Justin’s situation, since Brian had spoken with him about getting the boy on the company insurance a few days ago. Brian had also asked that Ted keep his secret about the nature of his and Justin’s relationship, telling him that the boy’s doctors had advised against telling him anything yet - which was sorta true, Brian thought. Ted, always the loyal friend and employee, readily agreed to Brian’s requests. So he was ready this morning as soon as he heard the two men had arrived. 

Ted walked over the couch on the far wall and laid the manila file he was carrying on the nearby glass coffee table. He spread out several papers in front of him as Brian led Justin over. 

“I need to go talk with Cynthia while you guys are doing this, okay,” Brian said, giving Justin a reassuring smile as he turned towards the door. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay,” began Ted. “First, this is the standard employment contract, you can read it first if you need to but it’s fairly vanilla. When you’re ready, just sign on the last page here where I’ve flagged it.” Ted handed the first document to Justin and was already going through the file looking for the next, when Justin stopped him.

“It’s ‘Kinney’,” the boy said, bluntly. Ted looked at him, obviously confused, so Justin pointed to the signature page, adding, “there’s a typo here. My last name is Kinney. Not, Taylor.”

Ted’s face went completely blank for a minute before he recovered enough to stammer out, “sorry. Brian didn’t tell me you were going by Kinney. I. . I’ll just redo that one and get it to you later.”

“No problem,” Justin replied affably. 

When Brian returned several minutes later, Ted hastily gathered up the documents from the table and advised the young artist, “I’ll take care of the rest of this and get back to you later.” Then, as he passed Brian, he quietly asked, “Got a minute, Bri?”

“Sure, Ted. Finish your breakfast, Justin. This should only take a sec and then I’ll show you around.”

“We’ve got problems, Boss,” Ted said as soon as the door was closed. “First of all, he said his name was ‘Kinney’? Also, he doesn’t know his social security number and a lot of the other data I need.”

“Shit. I forgot about that,” Brian frowned. “There was a mix up at the hospital and my last name got put on his charts. So, when he woke up he just assumed that was his name. I haven’t tried to explain it to him yet.” Brian started to pace - he always thought better when he was moving. “Just do up the employment contract under Kinney for now. We can always redo it later. As for the other stuff,” Brian opened his wallet and pulled out Justin’s driver’s license, handing it to Ted, “here’s his other info - but for now use my address not his parents’ house. I don’t know about the social, though. Can’t you get that some other way?”

“Maybe. I’ll work on it, Bri, and I’ll let you know if I need anything more,” Ted added as he headed back towards his own office, shaking his head as he went.

Brian took a deep breath, wiped the worry off his face and returned to his office. “Ready to get started?” he asked when Justin looked up at him with that huge, blindingly bright smile.

+++++++++++++++++++


	9. The Gang’s All Here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm running a bit late for class this morning so I didn't get a chance to re-edit this chapter for typos. I apologize if it's a bit messy. I'll come back later and get it all after class. In the meantime, Enjoy! TAG

Chapter 9 - The Gang’s All Here.

By mid-afternoon, Brian was convinced that hiring Justin was one of his best ideas yet. The enthusiastic young man had finished up the revisions to the Columbus Sportswear campaign, and the new boards looked fantastic. Then, he and Justin had spent an hour brainstorming about the second phase of the Aztion Electronics east coast campaign and they’d come up with some terrific ideas. The two men seemed to work well together and Brian was more than pleased. 

Around 2:00 pm, Brian noticed that Justin’s bubbly-ness was starting to fade a bit. He thought the boy looked a little paler than normal and he kept rubbing his eyes, too. Obviously the kid was tired - this was his first full day out of the hospital after all. Brian realized how much they’d accomplished in such a short time and decided that Justin was done for the day. He ordered the boy, who tried valiantly to protest that he was just fine, to the conference room for a nap.

When Brian was finally ready to leave for the day, he headed towards the darkened conference room, a little concerned that he hadn’t heard anything from Justin for a rather long time. He pushed the door open as quietly as he could, noting in the dim light that Justin was still stretched out on the couch under one of the blankets they kept at the office for emergency use. 

Brian didn’t want to startle the boy, so he practically tip-toed - but in a much more Kinney-like and manly fashion, he told himself - over to the couch. Brian was bent over the slumbering figure, just about to nudge the boy’s shoulder to wake him, when he was thoroughly ambushed by a blond hellcat who threw off the blanket, revealing a stark naked and very horny teenager. Brian hadn’t been able to move quickly enough to avoid the trap and was immediately enveloped by a pair of remarkably strong arms, easily pulling him off balance so that he landed sprawled on top of the giggling, squirming boy.

The hellcat in question eagerly planted kiss after kiss along the surprised brunet’s neck, cheek and jawline, licking and nibbling his way along. Brian was incredibly turned on by the wanton young blond and he could feel the blood draining from his brain directly into his swelling cock. To calm the frantic slew of kisses, he grabbed the boy’s chin firmly in his hand and angled the beautiful face upwards so that he could take possession of those excitable lips with a deep, wet open-mouthed kiss that took Justin’s breath away. And while his lips were busy, Brian let his hands wander over the smooth, soft skin of the boy’s shoulders and back. 

Brian couldn’t get over how warm the boy was. And he smelled amazing - like a combination of wool, sunshine and sweat. Brian let go of the supple lips so he could bury his nose into the crook of the boy’s neck and inhale more of the enticing aroma. While he was savoring the delicious scent, he nipped and sucked along the boy’s collar bone and down to the tender hollow at the base of his neck, then back up the slender, sensitive neck to suckle on the delicate ear lobe he found with his tongue. 

Brian realized he’d found a particularly pleasing spot when he felt, more than heard, a moan from the writhing, sensuous body beneath him. “Brian. Please. Ohhhh. . .uhh. Please, I need. . . I need you, Brian.” Justin was muttering and moaning, his breathing irregular, lost in a haze of pleasure. Brian could feel the boy’s needy cock grinding against his hip as the lithe body arched upwards.

When he just couldn’t take it anymore, Brian pulled back and without another thought unbuckled his belt, tore at the button and zipper of his fly and hastily pulled his slacks down, kicking both the slacks and his shoes away. The fully aroused man then climbed onto the couch, straddling the smaller frame of the boy and slid down that supple, willing body until their cocks were touching and rubbing together. Brian’s hands snaked down to cup the warm, full butt cheeks, pulling the boy’s hips and groin even tighter against his own, digging his fingers into the tempting warm flesh.

By now the younger man’s moans and whimpers had become continuous, pausing only when the boy needed to gasp for air as the blond head thrashed from side to side. Brian could tell the youngster was ready to climax, and was surprised to feel how close he was already as well. Extending his reach a few inches further, and still massaging the perfect hot little ass with his palms, he trailed his fingertips into the downy soft crack and just lightly, with the tip of one finger, brushed against the boy’s tight, hot little pucker.

The writhing body beneath his bucked at the electrifying sensation, Justin’s loins crashing up into Brian’s. At the moment of impact, Brian felt the boy’s body convulse and then Justin shot his load, the hot, sticky liquid pulsing out across Brian’s belly. Brian could feel the shuddering body beneath him and the hard, twitching, jumping cock on his belly, the erotic sensations bringing on the older man’s own orgasm, without warning. 

The two sated men collapsed on the couch, lying there panting for several moments before Brian found the strength to raise himself up so he could look down with obvious concern into Justin’s face. 

“Are you okay,” Brian whispered.

“I’m better than okay, Brian,” Justin purred. “I’m perfect. That was exactly what I needed.”

“I’m pretty sure that is not what you needed, at least not according to your doctor. That most definitely would come under the heading of ‘Strenuous Activity’, Justin,” Brian moaned. “You’ve got to stop tempting me like this or one of these times I’m gonna lose control and fuck you so hard your brain pops right out of that little hole in your skull, you twat.” 

Brian then hopped up and pulled Justin to his feet, wrapping the now sticky blanket around the young man’s trunk. Bending to pick up their scattered clothes along the way, he led Justin out of the conference room and down the hallway towards his office, not seeming to care much whether anyone saw them naked. Justin at least was glad that nobody seemed to be around right at that moment and hurried to follow Brian into the safety of the private office. Then Brian pulled the tempting blond into the shower in his private bathroom.

Brian was able to successfully get through a shower with the tempting blond tease without further incident, assiduously slapping away Justin’s roaming hands whenever they began to head too far south. It wasn’t easy though. Brian had to not only hold off the very horny teen but also keep his own dick under control.

-What the hell am I doing? Brian Kinney trying to discourage a hot young twink from having sex? What the fuck. I guess there’s a first time for everything. How many more fucking days according to those instructions? Shit - Too many!

Brian felt much better and much more in control of the situation when they were both dried off and dressed. They were still laughing and goofing together on the way out of the building and Brian was locking up the entrance door behind them, when his cell phone rang. Justin grabbed for the phone, play wrestling with Brian to steal it away, but Brian prevailed and answered the phone in the middle of a rather indecorous giggle. 

“Kinney *snort*”.

“Brian? Is that you? You sound weird,” Michael’s voice could clearly be heard yelling into the phone even though it wasn’t on speaker mode. 

“Of course it’s me, Mikey. Who the fuck else would be answering my phone. *he he he*. Stop it! Sorry, Mikey,” Brian replied to his best friend while simultaneously trying to avoid being tickled by a very playful Justin. “Stop. Seriously,. . stop.”

“Are you talking to me, Bri?” a confused Michael responded.

“No. Sorry, Mikey. I’m a little busy right now, is all. *snort* What did you want?”

“Ummm. Well, I just called to see if you were going to join the rest of us at Woody’s tonight?”

“No, no, no, . .Don’t you dare *he he he*. Stop.”

“Brian? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Mikey. I’ll see you at Woody’s later. Bye.” Brian said and ended the call. “You are so going to pay for that little boy,” he directed at the wide-eyed, giggling blond currently trying to play keep-away by dodging around the Jeep, staying just out of Brian’s reach. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Woody’s was pretty crowded already by the time Brian and Justin arrived. Justin had again held them up, this time because he was frustrated trying to find something to wear that didn’t expose his nipples and wasn’t some shade of pink. Justin made a mental note to himself to use his first Kinnetik paycheck to go shopping for some real clothes. When he’d finally assembled the least offensive outfit he could manage with what he had on hand, Justin then got distracted by trying to hide his less-than-attractive half-shaved-head haircut and minimize the obvious bandage plastered to the side of his head, both souvenirs from his recent surgery. Brian did his best to hurry the vain little twink along, but it took Justin quite awhile to screw up his courage to go out in public looking as ragged as he thought he did. 

Brian had used his time while waiting for Justin to get over his clothing and hair tantrum, to surreptitiously call Mikey and bring him up to date on the situation with Justin, or ‘Operation Twink’ as Mikey kept referring to it. The gang was all advised, to some degree or other, how to handle Justin’s likely questions. 

Brian was just relieved to be getting out again - he hadn’t been to Woody’s or the clubs at all in the past week. Since Saturday night, he’d been spending pretty much all his free time with Justin. With Michael and the rest of the guys to help entertain the twink, he thought he could have some time to relax without having to play nursemaid for a few hours - Not that it had been that bad spending time with the boy, he thought. But as wound up as that little tease had him, Brian was definitely ready for a little recreation. 

The familiar faces were easy to locate, bunched around their favorite pool table. Brian maneuvered Justin in the right direction, and the two were greeted with hearty ‘Hellos’ and handed beers. Justin was a little more subdued that Brian was used to, but when he’d asked if the youth was okay, the young man just shrugged him off. Brian was quickly pulled into the game of eight ball, leaving Justin sitting on a nearby stool.

The guys had been instructed not to overwhelm Justin by swarming him all at once but instead to just come up to him individually to introduce themselves one-on-one. Michael, as Brian’s official Best Friend, took on the task of going first. He ambled over to lean against the wall next to Justin as soon as Brian had moved off to play pool and smiled up at the unsure young man.

“Hey, Justin. I’m Michael,” the trim brunet with the puppy-dog eyes said as soon as he’d gotten the golden boy’s attention. “How are you feeling tonight?” he added with concern.

“Michael.” Justin started to add, ‘nice to meet you,’ but stopped. How was he supposed to know if he’d ever met this man before or not? For all Justin knew, they could be best buddies, raised together from the crib. Justin had no idea what to say next in this type of situation, so he said nothing.

“Brian told us what happened to you,” Michael began when he saw the young man falter. “Don’t sweat it. I mean, nobody here is gonna care what you remember and what you don’t. It was a fucking shitty thing that happened to you and all - you’ve got enough to worry about - don’t worry about the gang, okay?”

“Thanks, Michael,” Justin smiled at the older man and relaxed just a bit.

When Michael moved off, each of the others came over one by one; Ben, Blake, Emmett and Ted, who Justin was glad to see since it he was the only friendly face here other than Brian. By the time he’d been greeted by everyone he had finished his first beer as well, and Justin relaxed even more. The guys were all talking over and around each other, sharing gossip, stories about their work, the latest hetero jokes, and generally doing what guys do when they are out at a bar together, which went even farther towards putting Justin at ease.

“I have to say, Sweetie, you look just fab in that outfit,” Emmett said, trying to rope Justin into the conversation. “You know I helped Brian pick that out for you, and I have to say it’s just perfect.”

Justin looked down at the not-quite-see-through lycra tee and low-riding, tight black jeans he was wearing and laughed. “Oh, so you’re the one I have to blame most of my wardrobe on, hmm? Justin said with a mock serious expression. Emmett turned and was all prepared to get offended, when he saw the twinkle in the youth’s eyes, and joined in with the younger man’s laughter.

“What? You got something against lycra, Sugar?” Emmett huffed in his best ‘queen out’ imitation, causing everyone to burst out laughing and making Justin feel more like part of the group. 

The whole evening was going so well, and everybody seemed to doing as they’d been told, even Brian felt it was okay to relax. He was on his second beer and his second game of pool, when he realized he had run out of cigarettes. 

“Justin. Could you get me another pack of Bristols,” Brian asked, handing him some money and goosing the boy’s rear with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

Justin beamed right back at the gorgeous man as he headed over to the bar to get the smokes. When he got there, he instinctively reached towards his rear pocket for his wallet so he could get his I.D. His smile collapsed when he realized that his wallet wasn’t there and he didn’t have any I.D. or money or anything of his own. He immediately turned back to Brian to question his ‘partner’ about where his wallet was, but couldn’t see the man anywhere. He forgot about the cigarettes completely and returned to the pool table, trying to locate Brian.

“Ted, do you know what happened to Brian,” Justin asked the first of the gang he came to. Ted started to respond, but abruptly snapped his mouth closed, a look of embarrassment on his face.

Michael, who had been standing next to Ted gossiping, answered for him without thinking, “He’s probably still in the backroom with that tall brunet wearing the ‘Georgia Tech’ sweatshirt.”

Justin simply froze. Everyone around him was staring, except for Michael who was obliviously taking the next shot over at the pool table. The confused blond returned to his bar stool, sat down again, folded his hands in his lap and stared down at the floor with an ugly frown marring his perfect lips. The guys returned to their pool game, but were oddly quiet, even Michael who had finally realized what was going on.

Ten minutes later, a very happy looking brunet dressed in a bright yellow ‘Georgia Tech’ shirt and wearing a grin from ear to ear came waltzing around the corner, skirting the pool tables on his way back to the booths in the far corner. On his heels came Brian Kinney, still adjusting his fly.


	10. The Land of Liberty.

Chapter 10 - The Land of Liberty.

The comfortable, loud, well-lit environment at the Liberty Diner had always felt like home to Brian. That might have been partly because the woman he thought of as his ‘Mom’ also worked there. The only problem with going to a place that felt like home and came with your Mother included, was that when you’d screwed up, you ended up feeling just like you had when you were a kid and got yelled at by your mother at home. And Brian was sure that by the time he got to the Diner tonight, he’d be in for a real down-home tongue-lashing from his pseudo-mom, Debbie.

When the gang at Woody’s had decided to call it a night and head to the Diner for something to eat before going home, Brian had pulled Michael aside and given him his marching orders with regard to informing Debbie about Operation Twink. Brian was relieved to be able to delegate this job to Michael, since he didn’t want to sit through the string of opinions he was sure Debbie would have about how he’d handled things - Debbie had an opinion about everything, especially everything her ‘sons’ did that she in any way disapproved of. So, in many ways, it was better that Michael was telling her about Justin and not him.

On the other hand, by letting Michael and the others get to the Diner before him, he knew he was also allowing them time to bring Debbie up to date on the latest Kinney ‘asshole’ moment - namely, his recent backroom adventure with the yummy Georgia Peach. Apparently that was a ‘bad thing’, although it had seemed like a very good idea to Brian at the time. And this was why he was already preparing himself, mentally, for the wrath of Debbie Novotny. 

“So. . . are you hungry,” Brian tried once again to break the ice with the silent, seething iceberg sitting in the passenger seat.

* *, the sound of silence from the iceberg.

“Debbie, Michael’s mom, is a waitress at the Diner. You’re going to really love her. She tends to sort of adopt pretty much every gay boy on the Avenue and mother-hens us all,” Brian tried again.

* *, still the sound of silence from the iceberg.

“Fuck it! Are you just going to ignore me forever?”

* *, the continuing sound of silence from the frosty passenger seat iceberg.

“Whatever, Justin. Suit yourself!”

Brian decided to give up. He’d wait. He’d take his tongue-lashing from Deb. Maybe she’d tell him what he should do to fix this with Justin - she usually did when he screwed up. That didn’t mean he always followed her advice, but at least it would give him a starting point to work from - because he didn’t know where to start this time.

Brian couldn’t find a parking space close to the Diner and ended up having to park around the corner, a couple blocks away. Justin was already out of his seat and storming down the sidewalk without him before Brian had even got his seatbelt off. Brian locked the Jeep, put on his Ray Ban sunglasses - even though it was night time, just in case he needed protection - and took a deep breath to steel himself for the coming trials before following after the blond twink already disappearing around the corner. 

By the time he got into the Diner, Brian could see that Justin was already tucked in the farthest corner of the farthest booth with Ben and Michael sitting on the bench next to him and Ted, Blake and Emmett on the other side, as if they had circled around to protect the poor thing from Big Bad Brian. 

Brian slid into the next booth over, sitting sideways with his legs laying across the length of the booth, so he could see over the back of the seat. Justin was still trying to hide in the corner and wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Ben was giving him that serene, empathetic look. Michael was. . . well he was Michael. Emmett was shooting little sideways lightning bolt glances at him over the seat back. Ted and Blake were pretending they weren’t there. 

“Hey, guys. Thanks for saving me a seat!” Brian snarked as he flipped over his coffee cup.

The guys were saved from having to respond by the arrival of Debbie, order pad and pen in hand.

“Evening boys. What’s everybody having tonight.” Brian always worried when Debbie was nice and didn’t make any rude jokes. It usually meant she was about to do or say something extreme. “Hi, Justin. What can I get you, Sweetie,” Debbie started with the new boy.

After getting all the orders at the gang’s table, Debbie turned swiftly and headed towards the kitchen order window.

“Deb. What about my order?” Brian reminded her.

“You can wait, asshole,” Debbie rejoined in her patented ‘I’m pissed at you’ voice. 

Yeah, Brian was worried. He readjusted his sunglasses, and slumped a little further down in his seat. Debbie came back a couple of minutes later with drinks and stayed to chat with the group - she continued to ignore Brian, who likewise pretended he didn’t care whether or not she picked up his order. 

“So, how were things at Woody’s tonight? Hard, I bet! *Ha*.” Typical Debbie. “You doing okay, Justin, Baby? You probably should be taking it easier, you know. You don’t want to wear yourself out, ‘cause you know it will take you longer to get better if you don’t get enough rest.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine, Debbie. I’ll head straight to bed after we leave here,” Justin replied politely.

“Well, let’s hope you don’t head straight there,” Ted added for the obligatory sexual innuendo laugh, and the regular pace of conversation started up from there.

Eventually, Debbie came over and filled Brian’s coffee cup, but still didn’t ask about his order. Brian continued to sit there, aloof from the conversation, but seemingly completely at ease. When the rest of the crew was halfway done with their food, Debbie finally came over to Brian and asked if he was going to order anything. 

“Just coffee, thanks,” came from Brian.

“So, why the fuck are you complaining about me not taking your order, asshole?” Debbie began, and then slid into the booth across from Brian. She leaned forward, pointing a long, scarlet red fingernail in his direction and said in a hushed voice, “you better watch it, Brian. I heard what you did at Woody’s tonight. You’re already in such deep, shit trouble - what the fuck do you think you’re doing with this kid? Whatever, but don’t you fucking make it worse by hurting him. You hear me? Are you going to fix this?”

“Exactly what do you suggest I do, Deb?” Brian asked with his tried and true smart-ass mask firmly in place.

“I don’t know, but something! You need to tell the boy the truth, you hear me? The longer you wait the bigger the shit hole you’ll be in. And, until you do come clean, don’t fucking act like a dick to him.” Debbie stayed at the table for a couple more minutes, continuing to glare at Brian, but knowing that she wasn’t likely to get any response. Finally, she shook her head in disgust, slid back out of the booth and moved on to take care of her other customers. 

When Deb came around the next time to clear plates at the gang’s table, it was clear that Justin was ready to leave. He looked exhausted and depressed and somehow smaller as he huddled in the far corner. Mother Novotny’s heart was immediately lost and all her mothering instincts kicked into high gear.

“Hey. Give us a little sunshine over there, will ya, Justin?” Debbie tried to cheer the boy up. When Justin gave her a little half-smile, she beamed back at him. “That’s it, Baby. That smile just brightens the whole place up.” Turning to the next booth, she ordered, “time for you to get Sunshine here home, Brian. He’s fucking worn out.”

“Yes, mother,” said Brian, getting up and waiting while everyone evacuated the other booth. 

“Thanks, Debbie. Good night,” Justin said, as the red-headed tornado swept the boy up in a bear hug, pinched his cheek and then swatted him on the ass to get him moving towards the door.

“Goodnight, Sunshine. You make sure you’re getting enough rest, you hear me?” Debbie shouted as Justin headed out the door, Brian politely holding it open for him then following in the younger man’s wake.

Ten minutes later, Brian pulled the Jeep into its space in the parking area behind the loft, and shut off the engine. When Justin started to unbuckle his seat belt, though, Brian stopped him by grabbing the boy’s hand. Justin tried to pull his hand away, but Brian wasn’t letting go. He simply turned in his seat so he was facing the younger man, and waited until Justin settled.

“Justin. I guess I fucked up tonight. I didn’t mean to hurt you or piss you off. It’s just. . . . this is who I am. I’m queer. I trick - a lot. It’s just fucking - it doesn’t mean anything. I never promised . . . I’m not going to change who I am, Justin. I don’t want to change and even if I did I don’t think I could. But that doesn’t mean I don’t . . . care about you. . . .” Brian’s voice slowly faded away, but he still sat there, holding Justin’s hand, gently caressing the back with his thumb, and trying to say to him with his touch what he couldn’t find a way to express in words. 

Finally Justin spoke up. “Brian, I really don’t know what to say. I guess. . . if this is what we agreed to, this kind of open relationship, well, I . . . .I guess I can’t complain now. It’s just. . . . it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like something I would agree to. I don’t know how to explain this to you.” Justin sighed and reached his free hand up to rub his eyes. “I’m tired, Brian. I think I tried to push it way too much today, with working and going out and everything. Can we please just go to bed and talk about this in the morning.”

“Sure. Come on, Sunshine. It looks like you could probably use a pain killer too. Deb was right - you do look beat.” 

Brian released Justin’s hand then quickly ran around the car to get his door. Brian wrapped his arm around Justin’s shoulders as they walked together into the lobby and took the elevator upstairs. Once inside, he took control completely, hustling Justin into bed, bringing his meds to him with a bottle of water and putting all the discarded clothes in the hamper before sliding into the bed himself. And, for probably only the second time in his life, Brian reached over and tenderly pulled the man next to him in bed into his arms, pulling him close and curling his body around the smaller frame. Justin settled in and fell asleep quickly. Brian did not. He was awake, thinking for quite some time.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

The alarm went off at its usual time the next morning. Brian blinked and was just about to roll over and hit the snooze button, when the noise stopped on its own. He rolled his head to the left and opened his eyes, blinking in the too-bright morning light and was startled to discover someone sitting up in the bed next to him. He instinctively jerked his head back, still not completely able to focus his eyes, when he felt a soft, warm hand lightly rubbing his shoulder.

“Sorry to scare you, Brian,” a subdued tenor voice said.

Brian laid his head back on the pillow and continued to blink, trying to get his brain functioning. It didn’t happen fast enough, though, and before he could form a completely coherent thought, he felt the duvet being lifted up while a lean, sinuous body slid into the bed next to him and a strong warm arm stretched across his chest. 

“Mmmmm,” was still all Brian could manage.

His bedmate took that as encouragement and snuggled in closer, playing with and stroking one sleep-softened nipple while leaving a trail of soft kisses on Brian’s shoulder and neck. Brian reached his left arm around to pull the soft, warm velvety smooth body tight against him and then let his hand glide down that silky skin coming to rest finally gripping a pleasantly plump ass cheek. Then, using this new hand hold to gain leverage, he lifted the pliant body up and to the side so that it was completely draped over his own, allowing him full access now to both butt cheeks, which he grabbed in delight and began rhythmically kneading and massaging. 

This new position also allowed the body on top of him to reach his mouth, which meant that Brian’s lips were being lightly kissed and tasted and two firm warm hands were caressing his temples and twining in his hair. The feather-light kisses gradually intensified and pressed more firmly against his mouth. When Brian let his mouth fall open slightly, an insistent tongue thrust in, exploring and tasting further, sucking on and drawing back his own tongue.

After a while the kissing moved, trailing across his cheek and jaw till the mouth was pressed against his ear.

“Brian. I want you inside me. Please. I need you,” the voice purred.

Brian clasped the body to him tightly and rolled them both over, then freeing his arms so he could stroke and touch and feel more of the beautiful, warm, silky skin. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of that delicious skin. He pushed himself up on one elbow so he could look down and get a better view of this oh-so-tempting body, opening his eyes fully for the first time and smiling down at the man in his arms.

And unfortunately, that was when Brian’s conscious mind actually kicked in. 

“Fuck, Justin. Ohhhhhh.” Brian groaned as he rolled back over to his own side of the bed. “What the hell are you doing? You must have a fucking deathwish, or something. You’ve got to stop doing this to me.”

“Brian. Come back. I don’t want you to stop. Please. I’m fine. Really. It’s not like I’m going to break or something. Brian. Please.” Justin implored the man to return.

Feigning deafness, Brian stomped off the the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. He stepped into the shower, turning it on full blast as cold as it would go for sixty seconds before adjusting the temperature upwards until it was as hot as he could take it. Then he slumped back against the glass wall of the shower enclosure and allowed his body to slide down till he was sitting on the tile floor.

-I don’t know if he’s trying to kill me or himself. Damn it. . . . I wish I had stayed asleep. . . . God, he is so fucking beautiful and such a goddamned tease. He does have the nicest ass I’ve ever seen in my whole fucking life. . . . Shit, I shouldn’t have thought about his ass. I’m fucking getting hard again. 

Reluctantly, Kinney stood up once again and twisted the shower control back to the coldest setting, yelping when the cold water stung against his skin.


	11. Getting to Meet Gus.

Chapter 11 - Getting to Meet Gus.

Why was it that confrontation was so difficult for a man like Brian Kinney? The persona he liked to present was one of supreme self confidence, disdain for anyone whose opinions differed from his and always cool-headed. He had absolutely no qualms about making an ad pitch to even the most sceptical of business owners - in fact, he especially delighted in bringing his in-your-face brand of campaign idea to normally conservative businessmen and then forcing them to admit that the idea was brilliant. Public sex - no problem! ‘Out & Proud’ was how he’d lived his life from the time he left Jack Kinney’s house. So, why was he standing in the bedroom of his loft almost shaking at the thought of confronting a teenager?

-Get a grip, Kinney. You just walk out there and lay down the law. This IS your place. You’ve done this kid a favor . . . . hell a LOT of favors . . . . He needs to follow the rules. . . Fuck - what ARE the fucking rules? I’ve never done this before. He’s only been here two days . . . . how could I have become such a fucking pussy already? . . . Okay, I’ll make rules and he’ll just have to listen. Right? . . . . Yeah, right - who am I kidding - that kid doesn’t strike me as the type to follow the rules. I’m so fucked!

Taking a deep breath and pulling his shoulders back, he put on his ‘confident’ face and strode out of the bedroom ready to do this. Walking down the two steps from his bedroom to the main floor level and into the open space of the loft, he immediately saw Justin sitting at the dining room table with a fresh made pot of coffee in front of him. Another deep breath and Brian headed that way, mentally rehearsing what he was going to say. 

His resolve lasted up until Justin looked up at him and smiled that heart-melting smile the boy seemed to have. That’s when all the carefully planned arguments and rules he’d come up with vanished out of his brain completely. Brian was left with only a silly little return grin for the imperturbable young man and weak knees. He sat down immediately, looked down at the table to avoid the killer smile, and tried to compose himself anew. 

“Brian,” Justin stared. His voice was hushed but not at all hesitant. “We need to talk.”

“That was supposed to be my line, Sunshine,” Brian finally looked back up into Justin’s sparkling blue eyes and when Justin chuckled a little, Brian joined in.

“Look, Justin.” Brian remembered, at last, what he’d been planning to say. “We have to set some ground rules - at least until you’re totally healed and the doctors tell us you’re out of danger. Okay? I just can’t keep going like this. You have to stop teasing and propositioning me - I’m not made out of steel, you know.” He held a hand up to stop Justin, who looked about to interrupt. “Just hear me out, okay? This is what I propose: You agree to back off until the doctor gives you the all clear and I promise that as soon as we do get that green light from Doc Tremain, I will give you the most fucking fantastic night of your entire twinkie life.”

Justin felt the tell-tale heat rising up from his chest, knowing he was blushing. He bit his lip to keep back the smile that he knew would escape if he didn’t control himself. Justin still had a few things he wanted to clear up before he agreed to Brian’s, admittedly captivating, proposal.

“Fine. But I want some things too, Brian,” Justin spoke up, ignoring the look of shock on the other man’s face at the idea that he’d had the balls to make stipulations. “If I’m not getting any, then neither are you.” Justin tried to keep his voice quiet but firm as he went on. “That means no more tricks, at least for the time being. I don’t care what we might have agreed to before - that was then and this is now. Maybe that baseball bat changed more than the shape of my skull, but all I know is I’m NOT going to just sit back and watch you taking tricks to the backroom while I have to sit on my hands for another week. It’s not fair to me - I was hurt and embarrassed last night in front of the guys and . . . .” Justin faltered just a bit, but plowed on. “I . . . I want to be with you, Brian. And I want you to want to be with me. So, until we can be together, you’re going to have to keep your dick in your pants.” Justin had said his piece and now he leaned back in his chair, not releasing Brian’s eyes from his, and waited patiently for the now furious man’s response.

-How dare this pushy little twink . . . . . Who the fuck does he think he is? Nobody tells Brian Fucking Kinney who he can do or when. . . . .God, this kid has balls the size of watermelons! He looks like he’s about twelve, sitting there in those oversized sweats - my sweats, by the way - but he’s fucking braver than . . . . I don’t know - whatever the fuck is brave. . . . Could I even do it? Go a whole fucking week without fucking? I don’t think I’ve gone that long since . . . .I’ve never gone that long. Shit. . . . . He did look so fucking hurt last night. . . .It’s not fair to him? - Looking at me with those goddamned gorgeous blue eyes brimming with tears is what’s not fair. . . Shit, he still hasn’t said anything - he’s just sitting there staring at me with those delicious lips pouting at me. . . . . God, those lips. What I wouldn’t give to put those lips to really good use, wrapped around my cock. . . Ohhhh . . . . .And, I’ll take this morning’s wake up call over my fucking alarm clock any day - if only I could have. . . . . Fuck, I don’t have time for another cold shower. . . . Shit. I’m so fucked.

It took a full five minutes or more for Brian to mull over Justin’s little speech. Justin could almost see the hamster wheels furiously spinning in the brunet’s brain as a host of conflicting, and likely foreign, emotion cascaded over the beautiful, masculine face. While Brian had been in the shower, Justin had been sitting here thinking about what he would do if Brian said no to him. He still had no idea what he would do or where he would go if this didn’t work. He didn’t care though - he wouldn’t just sit back and watch Brian go with other men. Especially not if Brian wouldn’t be fucking him. Fuck whatever they might have agreed to before. Justin was not going to agree to anything like that now. 

“Fine.” 

Brian’s response was mumbled and so faint that Justin almost wasn’t sure he’d heard it at first. But, when the brunet just continued to sit there staring at the table top, not saying anything more, Justin set his smile free. Still trying to contain his glee, though, Justin pushed on, adding his other stipulations.

‘Thank you, Brian. I just want to be sure, though that I know what is allowed and what isn’t. Okay? You’re going to have to define ‘back off”. I mean, am I allowed to kiss you and hold your hand at least? Are you going to make me sleep on the couch? What?” Justin persisted.

“Of course you’re not going to sleep on the couch,” Brian was adamant. “Just, well, maybe we should keep our briefs on, you know.”

“And the kissing?”

Brian had apparently had all the talking he could handle for one morning. His response this time was to lean over, hooking Justin behind the neck to pull him closer, and plant a crushing, wet kiss on the dangerously provocative lips. Brian carefully pulled back though when he sensed the kiss was moving on towards something more.

“You hungry?” Brian smiled down at the slightly breathless blond and got up to get them both something to eat now that things had been resolved - even if they hadn’t been resolved in exactly the manner he’d had planned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

The rest of the day went pretty well. Justin had been brilliant again and come up with a whole new approach for the Genius Bagel Company’s national campaign. Brian thought the boy must have been hungry when he was working on those boards because he’d somehow made the bagels look so appetizing he had Brian salivating. The afternoon had been topped off by Ted announcing that they’d received signed contracts from another client with a two year commitment that would mean close to $500,000 in profits for the brand new ad agency. Time to celebrate, thought Brian, and he graciously told everyone to take off for the rest of the day. 

Justin was rambling around in his office, waiting while Brian packed up a few files he wanted to look over at home into his briefcase, when he came across a photo of Brian holding a small boy. He remembered seeing it yesterday, but had been too distracted by the prospect of starting his new job and had forgotten to comment on it. He picked up the photo and brought it over to Brian’s desk.

“Brian?” Justin laid the picture down and looked into the beautiful hazel eyes with his own questioning blue ones.

Brian sat back down in his oversized, black leather office chair and pulled Justin onto his lap. He then picked up the framed photo in one hand while securing the blond with the other. 

“That’s Gus - my son.”

“You have a son? Wow. I didn’t see that coming at all,” Justin was at a loss as to what else to say.

Brian then explained about his relationship with Lindsey and Mel and how he came to be a drop-in Dad to the adorable little toddler. He quickly determined that he could never get Lindsey, let alone Mel, to go along with the same charade the boys had been talked into. He was going to have to play this one differently.

“They haven’t met you yet,” he honestly told Justin. “I don’t really see Gus as much as I probably should. Mel and I . . . . well, let’s just say our relationship is challenging. Anyway, I would like you to meet them and Gus. If you want to?”

“I’d love that, Brian,” and Justin’s beaming smile as he said it proved he was earnest. “We could ask them for dinner. I could cook - I think can cook, that is. When can we do it?” Justin was off already, planning in his head the whole thing, not waiting for Brian’s agreement in his boundless enthusiasm. He was already prattling on about what he should make for dinner and what he’d have to pick up at the store, when Brian interrupted him with an impulsive kiss, effectively stopping Justin’s tirade.

“You’re adorable, you know that,” Brian heard himself say. 

-Where the fuck did that come from? . . . . If I didn’t feel my dick already getting stiff from Justin wiggling on my lap, I’d be worried it had fallen off. Get a grip, Kinney.

Standing up so abruptly he almost toppled the now radiant blond, he made a show of bustling about and getting ready to leave. Brian Kinney didn’t DO sentiment - he had to remind himself. He bit his tongue before any more drivel could escape and silently gestured toward the door for Justin to precede him out. 

+++++++++++++++++

“Hey, Lindz,” Brian had been hounded into making the call and setting up the dinner for the past three hours and was finally giving in to Justin’s pleading. He wasn’t exactly sure how to do this though - he’d NEVER invited anyone over to his loft for dinner before. “Um. . . so, I wanted to see if you and Mel and Gus were available tomorrow night.” There, that was innocuous enough right?

“I think so, Brian. Did you want to come over and see Gus?” Lindsey replied, happy that Brian was taking the initiative to see his son.

“No. . . I, uh. . . I wanted to invite you guys over here for dinner.” Fuck it - might as well just dive right in Brian decided.

“At your loft? You’re inviting us to DINNER at YOUR loft? Are you feeling okay, Brian?” Lindsey was more than a little thrown by this unheard of overture.

“Yes, that IS what I just said, isn’t it? Did I mumble or something? I want you to come over here for dinner tomorrow night and bring Gus.” Lindsey wasn’t making this any easier, Brian thought.

“Okay, well, of course we’ll be there. I couldn’t pass up this once-in-a-lifetime offer, now could I? Are YOU cooking?” Lindsey sounded a little concerned over that prospect.

“Fuck no! When have I EVER cooked, Wendy?” Brian took a deep breath, thinking to get the real shock over with. “I want you to meet someone. He’s the cook.”

“You’re shitting me, Brian!” The uncharacteristic profanity was a clear indication of Lindsey’s amazement. “You’re seeing someone? For real? Hold on a sec while I make sure there aren’t any pigs flying past my windows.”

“That’s enough! What’s the fucking big deal, Lindz. So, are you coming or not?” Brian thought retreat was his best option, before Lindsey could hurl ten thousand additional astonished questions at him. 

“What time?” Lindsey was determined NOT to miss this.

After a brief pause, Brian responded, “Justin says 7:00. Later.” Brian ended the call and groaned aloud. This was likely to get really messy and uncomfortable. But the alternative was having to put up with the incessant nagging from the boisterous bouncing blond boy now darting around the loft in his excitement and he knew he couldn’t have told him no.

++++++++++++++++++++

Justin had been an annoying ball of energy all day. Brian was about ready to bolt. If it wasn’t for the prospect of seeing Gus, he would have already. Out of pure self-defense, he had finally parked himself at his computer, surfing the internet, answering email and generally zoning out everything else, especially Justin. His glowering and muttering had apparently been sufficient to keep the whirling blond dynamo at bay and Brian was finally beginning to calm down. 

By 6:00 pm the shopping had been done, the loft had been cleaned from top to bottom (why - Brian had no idea since that was why he had a cleaning service), the table was set and the dinner was cooked and waiting in the oven. Justin had even found the time to borrow Brian’s credit card and drive clear out to the fucking mall to get something to wear - this time without the well-meaning assistance of the overly-flamboyant Emmett - and had returned with several

‘Gap’ and ‘Macy’s’ bags, to Brian’s utter contempt. Now the only thing left to do was to get showered and dressed. 

Justin had let Brian withdraw behind his imaginary protective walls and retreat to the privacy of his desk. He sensed that this dinner was going to be quite difficult for the man. He wasn’t completely clear on why - but he was sensitive enough to Brian’s moods by now to tell that Brian wasn’t so much angry, but rather afraid. That was a bit of an eye-opener to Justin, who couldn’t imagine anything that could scare the amazing, strong, bold man he’d come to know, let alone the prospect of a simple dinner party. It made him even more curious about what their relationship had been like before the bashing - before he’d lost his memories.

But, it was time to bring the man back out of hiding - enough sulking in silence, thought Justin. The determined young man wiped off his hands on the damp kitchen towel and headed over towards the desk. He figured that a simple backrub probably wouldn’t violate Brian’s ‘no-seduction’ rule, but would relax them both. 

Brian actually jumped a little at the soft touch of Justin’s hands on his shoulders, but he didn’t say anything and didn’t try to shrug them off. Justin went to work, massaging the tense shoulder muscles with strong, skilled fingers. He could feel the knots of tension in the man’s back and shoulders and worked at them firmly but without digging until he felt each one soften and the muscle relax. Brian had stopped working and dropped the computer mouse, sitting there passively with his head drooping forward. Justin kept at it, rubbing the tense neck muscles, the shoulders, the upper back, even briefly massaging the man’s scalp and temples, until he couldn’t feel any more tension knots and Brian’s occasional murmurs of pleasure indicated he was about to melt into a ball of putty. 

“Why don’t you go get a shower and get dressed,” Justin whispered in Brian’s ear, ending with a delicate, feather-light kiss on the nape of his now pliant neck.

The now docile Brian said nothing as he followed the blond’s directions, showered and dressed. When he emerged from the bedroom, Justin greeted him with a glass of Jim Beam and a kiss and told him to put on some music and relax on the couch until the girls and Gus arrived. The Justin scampered into the bathroom to get himself ready, laughing quietly to himself at just how tractable Brian was being, but knowing better than to say anything.

Justin heard the door buzzer and then, a moment or two later, the heavy loft door opening just as he was slipping on the comfortable grey chinos and pulling the soft, light blue, brushed cotton sweater over his head. He casually ran his fingers through his hair to make sure it wasn’t too messy and eagerly hopped down the stairs to meet his guests.

Brian was busy handing a tall elegant blonde woman a glass of the cabernet sauvignon Justin had decanted earlier. Another, smaller brunette woman was standing near the kitchen island holding a dark haired, wide-eyed toddler, who was already squirming to be let down. Justin skipped over to stand next to Brian and looped his arm through the taller man’s. 

“Hi, everyone,” Justin couldn’t control the excitement in his voice.

“Justin, this is Lindsey and her partner Melanie,” Brian began the introductions, gesturing first to the blonde and then the brunette. Then, scooping the struggling toddler from Melanie’s arms, he continued, “and this munchkin, is Gus.” Brian’s eyes lit up as he smiled down at the now compliant boy. “Everyone, this is Justin.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Justin.” Lindsey was the first to come forward, pulling the surprised young man into a tight hug. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when Brian called yesterday to invite us over and he told us he wanted us to meet you.” 

“You must be something special to have finally tamed the ‘Stud of Liberty Avenue,” added Mel, offering her to shake Justin’s. 

Justin was about to respond when Brian offered a simple, quiet, “he is.”

Justin beamed his bright, unquenchable smile at the magnificent brunet and squeezed the man’s arm affectionately. Lindsey and Mel exchanged a befuddled look and said nothing. Brian, suddenly uncomfortable with all the attention began walking towards the living room area and put Gus down on a large fluffy floor cushion. Justin quickly ran over to the counter near the door and then back with a brightly wrapped and beribboned package which he sat down in front of the little boy. 

“I hope you don’t mind. I was out shopping today, and I was so excited to meet Gus, that I couldn’t help myself when I saw this at the store,” Justin explained to the mothers, while Brian seated himself next to the boy and tried to help him unwrap his gift. 

After Brian removed the bow, Gus tore the paper off to uncover a Crayola Wonder Traveling Kit. Lindsay and Mel both looked at Justin in confusion so the young artist hurriedly explained that these markers wouldn’t write on anything other than the special, so it was completely mess free and therefore perfect for a toddler. Brian had already opened the packaging and was playing with his son’s new toy.

“This is pretty cool, Sunshine,” Brian enthused. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” Brian was happily engaged in showing Gus how to hold the pens and make the ‘magic’ drawings appear and the boy was jabbering to his Dad all about the amazing pictures appearing on the the paper.

Lindsey and Mel again exchanged amazed looks, unsure if the man sitting at their feet was really the Brian Kinney they thought they knew. Mel mouthed the word ‘Sunshine’ at Lindsey, who shrugged her shoulders. Justin missed the silent conversation, as he was standing next to Brian, his hand lying lightly against the back of the brunet head, as he happily regarded the man and boy playing together.

“Thank you, Justin. What a thoughtful present,” Lindsey finally managed.

“Justin’s an artist, so it’s no wonder he couldn’t resist buying markers,” Brian piped up. “He’s already given me a list of art supplies he wants for Kinnetik about two pages long.” Brian directed a tongue-in-cheek half smile in Justin’s direction and the young artist responded with a playful slug at the man’s bicep. 

“Kinnetik?” Mel asked.

“Yeah. Brian hired me to work in the art department for him. It’s been great, so far,” Justin added. “Now, enough play time for you two. Why don’t you escort everyone to the table, Brian and I’ll get dinner out of the oven.”

Three hours later, the girls were bundling a sleeping Gus into the childseat of their car. Neither had said anything since they’d left Brian and Justin standing arm in arm at the loft door. The evening had gone wonderfully - dinner was superb, the conversation had been amenable, and Brian had been on his best behavior. Except for the few awkward moments when the men had tried to explain the bandage Justin was still sporting and his memory loss, which explained away most of the vague answers they’d been given about how Brian and Justin had met and how long they’d known each other, this had been the most relaxing and enjoyable evening either woman could remember spending with Brian Kinney. That, in itself, was very troubling.

Mel couldn’t help it. She had to say it. “Who was that man and what has he done with Brian Kinney.” Both women collapsed against the side of their car with laughter.


	12. The Evil That Lurks.

Chapter 12 - The Evil That Lurks.

Craig Taylor scowled as he tore the florescent yellow flyers off the backs of the sales registers at the front of his store. The annoying “Have You Seen This Boy?” flyers were everywhere now. Jennifer and that bratty Chanders girl had plastered them all over the neighborhood. Craig had seen at least five on his way into work this morning - and he’d torn them all down. His removal efforts, though, weren’t quite keeping pace with the dynamic duo who were putting them up. Jenn had also been bugging him more about what the police were doing - which was nothing because he’d never filed that report - but he couldn’t tell her that.

At the last register, he paused to look over the flyer again. The picture of the smiling young ‘Missing - Justin Taylor’ on the notice was the same as the boy’s high school yearbook photo. Looking at the handsome young man in that picture just made him even more angry. Justin was a handsome, smart kid, Craig thought. He’d tried to give the boy everything possible to give him a great start in life - including an expensive, private school education. But the goddamned little shit had chosen to just thrown it all away, and for what? Because he thought he was gay? 

Craig crumpled up the handful of flyers and strode out of the building, locking the rear door as he left. He was determined to put this matter to rest, whatever way he could. He couldn’t have Jenn interfering and posting all these flyers around. Craig did NOT want the boy found. He would not be laughed at behind his back because of his GAY son. Craig Taylor had a reputation to maintain and a business to run - he wasn’t going to risk it all for a goddamned fairy. Even if that fairy was his son.

Twenty minutes later Craig was seated at a dimly lit booth in a run down dump that was pretending to be a bar. It looked more like a moldy basement rec room, thought the antsy man. And considering that it was Saturday night, and the place was this empty, he didn’t know how the place stayed in business. As he was wondering about this, a short, middle-aged, paunchy man wearing a leather jacket with a hole in the elbow of one sleeve, sidled up to Craig’s booth and seated himself without an invitation. 

“You Taylor?” asked the balding, unpleasant man.

“Yeah. You must be Carter?” Craig responded.

“Yeah. So what is it you want, Taylor? You mentioned something about keeping an eye on your kid or something?” Carter mumbled out around the frayed toothpick he was chewing on.

“Something like that. Can I get you a drink before we start?”

“Sure. Scotch on the Rocks”

Craig summoned the bartender and ordered the man’s scotch plus a beer for himself. The two men sipped at their drinks in silence for a few minutes. Craig seemed reluctant to begin.

“I would prefer not to be here all night, Taylor,” prompted the other man.

“I’ve got a bit of a problem with my son,” Craig started. “He’s . . . . seeing someone I don’t care for and I want you to keep an eye on him for me. I don’t want him coming anywhere near me or the rest of my family - not while he’s with this other . . . person. I especially don’t want him to have any contact with my wife. She’s too much of a pushover and he would corrupt her. . . get her on his side. So, this is what I need you to do. . . . .” 

++++++++++++++++++++++

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon - the sun was shining brightly but it wasn’t so humid that you couldn’t be outside and still be comfortable, even with the huge crowds packed along the sidewalks of Liberty Avenue. Everyone around them was in a jubilant mood - there was music, kids were running everywhere, food vendors were strolling along keeping everyone fed and there were gorgeous men just about everywhere you looked in various states of dress or undress as the case may be.. The large, boldly lettered banner strung over the street just beyond where Brian and Justin were standing explained the happy scene succinctly: It read, “Pittsburgh Pride Festival Parade”. 

Brian and Gus were planted on the stoop of the Gay & Lesbian Center right beside Justin. LIndsey and Mel were riding in the parade again this year in the Dykes on Bikes group, so the boys were watching young Gus. It looked to Brian that Justin was having almost as much fun as the toddler, since they were both happily sucking at sno cones, both equally messy with rainbow colored syrups stains running down their faces. 

Brian was pretty sure that Lindsey was going to kill him when she eventually returned and found out about all the junk food he had been giving the Gus - Brian figured he’d try and blame it on Justin, since the bottomless pit blond had instigated most of the purchases. Both of his boys were contented and smiling at the moment, though, so Brian was not going to rock the boat by complaining. And, not that Brian would admit it, but he was having just as much fun as either of them - listening to Gus going on about the drawings he’d made with the art set Justin had given him yesterday, while Justin smiled and nodded at the boy between sno cone slurps, was pretty entertaining. 

Justin was incredibly happy. In fact, he could honestly say, he didn’t remember ever being this happy before. But, then again, he couldn’t remember anything before last Monday, so who knew. Right now, though, everything seemed to him to be about as perfect as it could get. But right now, sharing this beautiful day with the most gorgeous man on Liberty Avenue and the most adorable little boy he’d ever met, Justin couldn’t imagine anything that could possibly make him happier. The fact that his cheeks were actually starting to ache because he hadn’t been able to wipe the huge sunshiny smile off his face all day was definitive proof. 

Before the two younger ‘Kinney’ boys had finished their sno cones, motorcycle police began to sweep down the street, pushing back the crowds and clearing people out of the street, clearly indicating that the parade was about to begin. Gus was clapping and yanking on the string of the rainbow printed mylar balloon that Brian had been talked into buying earlier. The Kinney contingent had located themselves near the start of the parade route so that they could get the best view over all the floats and other entries. Plus, Justin had correctly advised Brian and Gus that there would be more candy thrown from the floats near the start rather than the end because sometimes they ran out - Gus, new to the whole parade thing, was very excited by the mention of candy. Brian wasn’t sure whether to laugh at Justin’s youthful enthusiasm or spank him like the annoying twat he was being. 

All three were soon distracted as the parade began. The first entry, as demanded by tradition, was a huge stretch limo, complete with an open air hot tub full of unclothed hot men, proudly bearing the parade’s “Grand Mistress” - a gaudily dressed drag queen, perched most of the way out of the limo’s sunroof, waving a jewel bedecked hand at her adoring masses. Brian knew from past experience that most of the ensuing parade entries would get sillier and that the participants would be wearing even fewer clothes the farther back in the line up they were - which Brian was firmly in favor of. Justin, who didn’t know if he’d ever been to a Pride Parade before or not, was looking on in amazement and drinking it all in.

The third or fourth float just happened to be a large one sponsored by the GLC. Amidst the profusion of rainbow flags and crepe paper decorations, Justin was thrilled to see Brian’s friend, Emmett, wearing his finest finery and waving the end of a rainbow colored feather boa at the crowd. Brian Impulsively let loose an ear splitting wolf whistle in Emmett’s direction which easily drew the giddy young man’s attention. 

“Brian! Justin! Hey, guys! Happy Pride!” Emmett yelled at them, waving wildly. 

The float came to a temporary halt right at that moment, almost toppling the tall lanky southerner. But, Emmett quickly regained his footing and started waving his friends to come nearer. Pushing through the crowd, Brian and Justin came forward, and Emmett reached down to grasp their hands. 

“Having a good time, Justin?” Emmett gushed. Then, a brilliant idea flashed through Em’s brain and he spontaneously blurted it out. “ Hey, Justin. Why don’t you ride up here on the float with me? There’s tons of room. Come on, Sweetie. It’ll be a hoot! Brian won’t mind, will you hon?”

Justin looked over at Brian, who amiably shook his head, smiled and gestured towards the float. “Go ahead, Sunshine. Go, enjoy yourself! Don’t worry about me - I’ve got Gus here to keep me company.”  
Justin thought for all of two seconds, before he was raising his arms up to Emmett and a large, heavily muscled black man, who grabbed him by the wrists and hauled him up to the float just as it was starting to move again. As soon as Justin found a perch where he could hold on, he smiled down at Brian and Gus, waving as the float pulled away. His attention was quickly pulled away though as Emmett grabbed his hands and twirled him around, dancing to the music flooding out of the speakers attached to the edges of the float. Brian and Gus waved at the departing float and smiled at the crazy blond’s antics.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Daphne wasn’t sure why she’d let her friend September drag her her to the Pride Parade today. She didn’t feel like going to a parade or doing anything else remotely related to celebrating. Daphne’s head was miles away from here, worrying and wondering about her friend Justin. 

Daphne had been mentally kicking herself ever since Jennifer Taylor had called her a few days after the Prom asking if she had seen Justin. Daphne hadn’t thought anything much when Justin had left with the mysterious handsome older brunet who had shown up at the Prom and danced with her friend. From the way the two were acting, she’d thought they must know each other from somewhere else - and judging by that kiss, they probably knew each other pretty well. The only thing that was odd, was that Justin had never told her anything about the guy, even though normally she and Justin told each other everything. Daphne figured she would be able to get the skinny on the guy from Justin later. 

When Justin hadn’t come back, she was a little ticked off at him, thinking that he could at least have called her to tell her where he was going, but since she had driven its not like he’d abandoned her there or anything. She had then got a little distracted when Glen started coming on to her and ended up inviting her to an after party. By the time she got home at around 2:00 am that night, she was too tired to care about Justin and hadn’t even tried to get a hold of him until late Sunday night - but he hadn’t answered so she just left a voicemail message. When he wasn’t at school on Monday, though, she started to get a little worried. And, by Tuesday, when Justin still hadn’t returned any of her calls, she knew something was wrong.

The last thing she wanted to be doing right now was standing idly around at some parade. She wanted to be out hanging more of the ‘Missing’ flyers or calling people or doing anything remotely productive that would help her to find her friend. Plus, they’d been standing here in the sun for thirty minutes already waiting for the damn parade to start and she was getting bored. 

Daphne was just about to tell September that she was leaving, when the first of the floats began to drift into view. The smart, young, brunette realized she might as well stay now, since she wasn’t likely to be able to get away once the parade started and effectively tied up traffic everywhere around them. She resigned herself to watching the parade and leaned back against the building where they were standing.

September and the other girls they had come with were having a great time, laughing at the outrageous costumes some of the people were wearing and flirting with all the cute guys, even if they were gay. When a large float came by bearing several gaily dressed men and women who were throwing candy at the crowd, Daphne felt herself being tugged forward. September laughed loudly as she caught a jolly rancher thrown at her by a large black man and elbowed Daphne, pointing up at the handsome man to show her friend her admirer. Daphne turned to look where her friend was pointing and nearly fell over.

Standing right next to the large black man, laughing and waving at the crowd, was her missing friend, Justin.

++++++++++++++++

Jennifer Taylor picked up the phone on the third ring. Except for when she was out hanging ‘Missing’ flyers around the neighborhood, she tried to stay close to the phone, still hoping that Justin would call. And if not Justin, maybe someone who had information on where he was could call. She was completely frantic at this point - it had been a week now with no word from her son and she was starting to think the worst. Especially after what Craig had told her earlier this afternoon.

“Taylor Residence,” Jennifer answered.

“Hi, Mrs. Taylor. It’s Daphne. My mom said you called earlier?”

“Yes, I did. Thanks for calling me back, Daphne. I just wanted to let you know what we heard from the police earlier today about Justin. Craig spoke to someone right about lunchtime and they told him that a witness had identified Justin by his picture and said she’d sold him a bus ticket to New York sometime Sunday evening. So, it looks like maybe he did just run away after all. I just thought he would at least have called us first.” Jennifer poured out her news to the girl who she knew was almost as worried about Justin as she was. 

Daphne was silent for several moments after Jennifer finished her explanation. 

“Daphne? Are you still there, dear?” Jennifer said into the silent phone.

“Uh. . . . Mrs. Taylor, Justin isn’t in New York. The police must be wrong or maybe your husband misunderstood or something, because I saw Justin this afternoon downtown.”

“What? You saw him? Where? What did he say? Is he okay?” 

“I didn’t get to speak to him. He was riding on a float at the Pride Parade downtown. I tried to get his attention, but I guess he didn’t see me. But, I’m sure it was him, Mrs. Taylor. Justin is still here in Pittsburgh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey . . . Is there anybody out there? Anyone like this story? Please leave me a comment or kudos if you are enjoying this so I know you're there. Thanks. TAG


	13. To the Governor.

Chapter 13 - To the Governor.

Brian was in the middle of a conference call with Geneva Pates, the CEO of Grand Century Bakery, Inc. Grand Century was an up and coming food distribution company in the pacific northwest based out of Portland, Oregon. The company was positioning itself to go nationwide within the next two years and was shopping for a new advertising agency that could help them reach this goal. Brian had been fighting for their business for the past six months. His main competition happened to be his former employer, Vanguard. It would be a huge accomplishment for his little company if he could steal this one away from Gardner Vance. And from the tone of Pates’ voice, he felt that he was finally getting close to winning this woman over. 

Justin had recently crept into Brian’s office, seating himself in the armchair in front of the large glass desk, and was trying to wait patiently for Brian to finish his call. He had exhilarating news that he could hardly wait to tell Brian. He was wound up so tightly that he couldn’t sit still - he was fidgeting and bouncing in his chair. Brian was eyeing his little Energizer with raised eyebrows, trying to puzzle out what was making the boy so jittery. 

“Sounds great, Ms. Pates. I can’t wait to meet you in person. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed by what Kinnetik has to offer. . . . Alright. See you on Thursday.” Brian finally finished up his call and hung up.

“So, what’s got you all wound up, Mr. Energizer Twinkie?” Brian asked, smiling tongue-in-cheek at the excited youth. 

“I’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon!” Justin practically shouted as he leaped out of the chair and rushed around the desk to plant himself in Brian’s welcoming lap. “It’s been a week since my surgery and I haven’t had any complications, soooo the nurse practitioner I spoke with said the doctor would probably take out the sutures and then. . . . .”

“Then it sounds like we’ve got a date on Wednesday night,” Brian said with a lecherous grin.

“Wednesday night? Why not tomorrow night?” Justin demanded.

“Because WE have a little over forty-eight hours to put together an entire presentation for Grand Century Baking before we fly to Portland for a Thursday morning meeting with the client,” explained Brian. “Between now and the time we arrive in Portland, we are going to working like dogs to get this shit ready - or at least I am. You, Sunshine, are allowed occasional food and nap breaks since you’re still convalescing. But, once we get to Portland, we’ll be booked into the best suite the Governor Hotel has to offer and I promise to wine, dine and bed you in the manner you deserve. Provided, that is, that we get the official okay from the Doc.” 

“You’re taking me with you to Portland?” The Energizer Twinkie was bouncing in Brian’s lap again, easily transmitting his sense of excitement to Brian’s lonely, neglected dick. 

“Of course you’re coming. You are Kinnetik’s Art Director, aren’t you?” Brian said with a mock serious expression on his face that was belied by the sparkling hazel eyes.

“Art Director? Me?” The Energizer Twinkie couldn’t stand it any longer - he bounced right off Brian’s lap and did a victory lap around the office, bouncing, pumping his fist in the air and hooting at the top of his voice. 

Brian stood up, and on the next lap around, he restrained the E. Twink, wrapping his arms around the struggling body and stifling the hooting with one large hand gripped across the boy’s mouth. “I’ll take it back if you don’t stop bouncing and shouting like a little twat, Sunshine,” Brian whispered in Justin’s ear. 

Justin responded by stretching up on his toes and mashing his lips against Brian’s.

+++++++++++++++++++

“Craig, Honey. What police precinct did you file the missing person’s report through?” Jennifer’s voice came over the speaker phone at Craig’s office before he quickly picked it up and waved at his secretary to leave.

“Why? We already discussed this Jenn. Justin’s run off on his own. As far as we know he’s in New York. There’s no reason to screw around with the police and that stupid report any more. The police already told us that since he’s eighteen there’s nothing they can do about it.” Craig was getting pissed off at his wife - why couldn’t she just let this drop, damn it.  
“Because, Craig, I talked to Daphne last night and she said she thought she’d seen Justin downtown. I was going to talk to you about this last night but you blew me off and went out drinking instead.” Jennifer sighed and tried to rein in her anger. “I just wanted to update whoever was working on the case and let them know this new information. It’s always possible that witness was wrong. And if so, I want the police to keep on looking for Justin.”

“Jennifer, I don’t want you going to the police or anyone else about Justin anymore. Do you hear me? That boy has caused us enough trouble and I don’t give a crap anymore where he is. You need to just back off. He’ll come home when he’s damn good and ready, and then, only if he agrees to my rules. And, quit with the fucking flyers, too, you hear me!” Craig slammed down the phone, not bothering to wait for Jennifer’s response.

Craig nervously ran his hand through his hair, then picked up the receiver on the phone once again. 

“Carter? It’s Craig Taylor. We’ve got a problem. My wife’s meddling again. You want to make a little more money? . . . . Good. Here’s what I need you to do. . . . “

+++++++++++++

The Governor Hotel was a grand old hotel built in 1909, and the architecture, with its Arts & Crafts exterior and elegantly appointed interiors complete with twenty foot high, ornately painted ceilings, carved corinthian-style columns and extravagant stained glass dome, was inspiring the artist in Justin. He couldn’t wait to do some sketches of the building and especially the dome. At the moment, he was walking around the lobby staring up at the ceilings like the worst kind of tourist and rather annoying Brian, who was busy trying to get them checked into their suite. 

Finally, the bellhop, attired in 1930’s style livery complete with a round, tasseled cap reminiscent of something you’d see on Curious George, grabbed their hand luggage, and led the way to the elevators. Brian put a firm guiding hand on Justin’s lower back and urged his young friend to follow. When the elevator finally stopped at the top floor, the bellhop dashed forward to open the door of the penthouse suite for the two fashionably dressed men. Brian directed the young man to leave their bags on the dresser and then, noting that the champagne and snacks he’d preordered were already on the table, he gave the bellhop an extravagant tip and told him to hold the rest of their luggage downstairs until he called. 

Excited and scared at the same time by what he knew was coming, Justin had become unaccountably shy as soon as the bellhop left. He was standing on the far side of the room, still wearing his jacket with his portfolio bag, containing the all-important client presentation boards, draped across his shoulder. Brian, on the other hand, was feeling much more in his element and his inherent predatory nature was evident. This was one situation that Brian Kinney knew exactly how to handle.

Brian took his time removing his coat and hanging it in the closet and then removing his suit jacket and loosening his tie. He leered over at Justin the entire time, even licking his lips once or twice in sweet expectation. Next, Brian moved to the table, already set for two with gold rimmed china and crystal stemware, and extracting the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket, poured two glasses. He handed one glass to Justin, while he deftly slipped the portfolio strap off the nervous blond’s free shoulder, letting it fall to the ground. He then picked up his own glass and raised it for a toast.

“To Dr. Tremain,” Brian said in a low, breathy baritone. “Thanks to whose amazing surgical skills, not to mention your record-breaking powers of recuperation, we are here today.” 

Brian clinked his glass against Justin’s, smiling lusciously, and then entwined his arm around the other man’s bringing his glass back to his own lips for a sip. Justin followed suit and the two men drank their toast linked arm in arm. After a sip or two, Brian replaced both glasses on the table and lifted the silver domed lid of the covered dish resting in a bowl of ice on the table. Justin was amazed to see that the dish was full of the largest, deepest red strawberries he’d ever seen, each covered half way with a delectable coating of dark chocolate.

“I’ve wined you,” Brian said indicating the waiting champagne flutes. “Now, I’ll dine you.” 

As he said it, Brian delicately picked up a berry off the top of the pile and brought it to Justin’s lips, brushing the treat back and forth across the coral pinkness until Justin opened wide enough for Brian to push the chocolate covered end between the waiting teeth. Justin bit down, moaning at the exquisite taste, savoring the sweetness of the berry juice combined with the tart, rich dark chocolate. Brian pulled the treat back enough to rub the half eaten berry across Justin’s lips, smearing dark red juice across those already tasty lips and dribbling some down the pale, strong chin. 

Popping the rest of the berry into his own mouth, Brian chewed a couple of times then leaned forward, licking the sweet juice off Justin’s chin and mouth, and then moving in for the long anticipated kiss. The sweet berry nectar combined with the already sweet taste of those luscious lips caused the man to groan into Justin’s mouth as their tongues twirled together. Brian’s tongue thrust into that warm, inviting space then he sucked Justin’s sugary tongue back into his own mouth to better enjoy the flavors.

When he could feel Justin’s breath coming in short irregular pants, he leaned back enough to enjoy the look of lust on the younger man’s face. Justin’s eyes were closed and his mouth slightly agape. His lips were now swollen and the tip of the boy’s pink tongue was just barely peeking out through them. Brian cupped the soft cheek and ran his hand over the silk-like skin, noting that the usually pale ivory skin was now flushed a deep pink and was warm to the touch. 

-Oh yeah. . . . He’s fucking beautiful. . . . I want this boy so much. I’ve never wanted anything more. 

“I’ve dined you.” Brian moved his body closer to the mesmerized, waiting blond and skillfully slipped Justin’s jacket off his shoulders. “Now, little boy, I’m going to bed you,” he growled into the younger man’s ear, eliciting a small gasp from the still panting blond.

Drawing on Justin’s hands to lead the boy through the open door into the bedroom, Brian could feel his almost painfully hard cock twitching in avid anticipation of what came next. It had been more than a week since Brian had engaged in his favorite hobby, with only that brief, unsatisfying interlude at Woody’s to tide him over, and his dick was telling him that it had been neglected far too long. Brian was still amazed that he had lasted this long - if it hadn’t been for the almost constant presence of the hot, sensual blond and their frequent, albeit non-strenuous, diversions, he knew he wouldn’t have. 

As soon as he had the willing and oh-so-tempting hot, young blond positioned where he wanted him - standing at the foot of the large California King-sized bed - Brian began to slowly undress him. First, he removed the soft dark blue cashmere pullover, kissing the mussy blond head as soon as the sweater was gone. Then, he unbuttoned the cotton button down shirt underneath, taking his time over with the buttons, letting the anticipation build. When the shirt was hanging open, exposing the smooth taut skin of Justin’s chest and stomach, Brian moaned and let his eager hands explore every inch of the warm creamy skin, eventually causing the shirt to fall back and drop off the boy’s shoulders. 

Justin was standing in front of the skillful brunet as if entranced - his eyes were barely open, his mouth slack, his arms resting comfortably at his sides - trustingly waiting for his lover to do whatever he wished with him. Brian had thought the eager, excited and aggressive youth he’d seen for the past week was a turn on, but this submissive, totally compliant version was even more arousing. He had to pause and breathe deeply for several seconds to control himself before moving on - Brian had no intention of rushing tonight.

Enfolding the now bare chested youth into his arms, nuzzling into the soft, warm smelling neck all the while, Brian caressed the strong muscles of the young man’s back and shoulders, slowly allowing his hands to drift down the small of Justin’s back all the way down to the waistband of the dark grey wool slacks Justin had chosen to wear for the trip. Cupping the plump round ass in both hands, Brian pulled the boy’s hips sharply against his own, both men groaning at the increased contact. Then, sliding his hands around to the front, Brian undid the metal hasp and zipper with sure hands, and pushed the slacks down till they puddled at Justin’s feet, following them down with his body so he ended up kneeling with his face inches from the tempting blond’s crotch.

Once again fondling and squeezing the globes of Justin’s perfect ass, Brian mouthed the boy’s straining erection through the tight cotton briefs, adding the moisture from his mouth to the already damp spot he’d found there. Brian then clamped the elastic waistband with his teeth, and carefully tugged at the material until the beautiful thick cock was freed, pausing there briefly to take one loving taste of the pearly drops of pre-cum beading on the head. After savoring this brief taste, the adept older man continued to worry the boy’s underwear all the way down to his ankles, using only his teeth and mouth, and kissing and licking the nearby skin as he went. 

Once the dazed and whimpering youth was bare, Brian, still kneeling, playfully pushed Justin backwards, allowing him to bounce onto the plush mattress, and adroitly pulling off the no longer needed briefs, slacks, socks and shoes with quick, sure hands. The sensuous brunet then crawled up the younger man’s prone body, still exploring with mouth and tongue and hands as he slithered over the velvety smooth skin. When his mouth was again able to reach the always enticing crushed-coral lips of his young lover, he unrestrainedly bit at the pouty lower one, sucking it into his mouth to taste anew the seductive sweetness of that tempting mouth. 

“Brian,” the breathy low moan rose from beneath him. “I want to touch you. Why are you still wearing all these clothes?”

Brian looked into the plaintive blue eyes and burst out laughing uproariously. He’d had been so caught up in what he’d been doing, concentrating so hard on Justin’s pleasure, that he hadn’t realized that he was still completely dressed. Enjoying the break in the sexual tension as well as the refreshing laughter, which Justin had gleefully joined in on, Brian stood and efficiently removed his own clothing, uncharacteristically tossing everything into a pile on the floor. 

Then, tossing the handful of condoms and packets of lube he’d fished out of his pocket onto the bed, Brian returned his attention to the waiting, willing blond. The tall, lean, golden-skinned man stepped up on the bed, towering over Justin, who was looking upwards with sheer adoration beaming from his flushed face. Then, in a swift, precise movement, Brian lowered himself into position straddling the younger man’s thighs, resting his own weight lightly on his heels as he reached down with his right hand and began to firmly stroke Justin’s hard, leaking cock. With his other hand, Brian was drawing light little patterns on the sensitive skin of the boy’s hips and groin, causing small jolts of electricity to course through the youth’s body and stimulating his aching penis even more. 

As the young man’s whimpers of pleasure increased, and the wriggling hips and thrashing head picked up tempo, Brian decided it was time to move on. He began to shift his weight, allowing him to spread the strong, supple thighs apart so he could kneel between them. Brian tenderly stroked the delicate skin on the youth’s inner thighs with his thumbs, slowly moving his caresses upwards towards his ultimate goal, so eager now to finally let himself plunge into that inviting, perfect ass that had been teasing him for far too long.

Brian leaned forward slightly, reaching one hand back to hook around a lightly furred calf and started to shift it upwards onto his shoulder, when he suddenly felt the smaller frame beneath his tense up. Justin’s breath hitched and Brian felt the boy’s hands gripping strongly at his thighs, halting Brian’s actions. Brian, who was almost lost his own feelings of lust and passion, blinked down at an unexpectedly tremulous young blond, who was panting now, not in ecstasy, but with something that looked to Brian remarkably like fear.

“Stop. . . . Please, Brian, just. . . wait a second. . . . I . . . I feel. . .God. Why do I feel so scared all of a sudden?. . . . Like this is all new. . . We’re partners, right, so . . . why do I feel like I’ve never done this before? Just. . . give me a minute, okay. “ 

-Holy Fuck! He’s a virgin! . . . . Shit. . . . The way he’s been throwing himself at me - I had no idea. I should have guessed though. He acts like a virgin - all eager and excited one minute and then, Wham!, scared shitless the next. . . . As if he wasn’t hot enough before, but now. . . . All this gorgeous package and a virgin to boot. . . . Fuck, I’m so hard. . . . But, I’ve got to back off a little.. . . .Get a grip, Kinney. Don’t frighten the shit out of the boy. . . . Do it right, damn it. . . Make his first time making love fucking fabulous. . . . Fuck me! Did I just think ‘making love’? Where the fuck did that come from? . . . We’re ‘fucking’ - it’s just ‘fucking’! . . . Jesus, he’s so beautiful lying there like that. . . . Christ I’m fucked.

“Shhh, Justin. It’s okay. I know what to do - I’ll take care of you. Just relax.”

 

*** Thanks to my friend Geneva for letting me use her persona in my story. ****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really, really like reviews and kudos. Please help if you have some to spare. Thanks. TAG


	14. Arousal and Betrayal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for the GOOD stuff? Enjoy! TAG

Chapter 14 - Arousal and Betrayal.

Brian would have to take a different tack, he decided. Justin was not quite ready, obviously, so he’d have to back off, and work this just a little more. He still didn’t understand why he cared so much, but he was determined to make this experience utterly amazing for Justin. And seeing as he’d just discovered that this was the boy’s first time, well . . . .Brian was experienced enough to know exactly what to do to get get Justin to relax again and ensure he was fully prepared. Virgin or not, Brian knew that by the time he was done, this boy would be begging him for it.

Scooting so he could lie next to the nervous youth, Brian resumed his light caresses along the boy’s chest and stomach, working to sooth the jittery boy once again. He accompanied the caresses with light, playful kisses, licks and nibbles, randomly placed anywhere he could reach a spot of ivory smooth skin. Justin’s breathing slowly came back under control and he rolled onto his side facing Brian, once again smiling.

“Thank you, Brian,” Justin murmured, returning the man’s wandering kisses.

“Just relax, Sunshine. There’s no hurry. We have all night,” Brian breathed into the shell-like ear. 

After spending several more minutes settling the apprehensive youth, using a skillful mouth and tongue to soothe and quiet the nerves away, Brian gently pressed against Justin’s shoulder, urging him to turn onto his stomach. 

“It’s okay,” Brian said when he felt a second of hesitation. He bent to kiss the questioning look out of Justin’s eyes. “Just let yourself feel. You don’t need to think. I’ve got this.”

The sunshine smile told him that he’d regained the boy’s trust and Justin allowed himself to be maneuvered onto his stomach and over to the center of the bed. Brian once again straddled the youth’s compact frame and, taking a tip from Justin’s own playbook, began to massage the tense back muscles. Justin willing gave in to those long, strong fingers, which seemed to unerringly find each and every knot and ache - it felt as if the stress and tension were draining out of him through his fingertips and the soles of his feet. Justin felt comforted and cared for in a way, he somehow knew, he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

When Brian finally heard Justin release a long, drawn out sigh and felt the young body sag just that much more deeply into the mattress, he leaned forward, continuing the massage all the while, and began to seductively lick down the other man’s spine starting just at the nape of his slender neck. First with light, almost tentative tastes, and then with firmer longer swipes, he trailed wet patterns spiraling down the supple smooth skin. As he neared Justin’s lower back, the kissing and licking became more insistent, as Brian nipped and sucked the delicious tasting blond boy and enjoying Justin’s little moans and plaints. 

Lowering his massaging fingers to the firm round buttocks, he couldn’t resist taking one slightly more energetic bite, sucking the blood to the surface and leaving a juicy red mark at the top of one plump cheek. The happy, throaty chuckle from Justin encouraged Brian to continue. Making his tongue flat and starting back up at the dip in the youth’s lower back, Brian let his wet firm tongue move steadily over the swelling rump and immediately down into the inviting crack, straight to the tight, roseate pucker, using his hands to tease apart the boy’s cheeks giving him better access. The electrifying touch on this ultra-sensitive spot caused Justin to gasp and his upper body jerked up then collapsed back in the mattress, the boy’s protestations ending in a series of erotic moans.

Brian diligently spent several minutes sucking and licking around the rim of the inviting and tempting pucker until the entire area was a bright red and slightly swollen. When he couldn’t hold back any longer, he dexterously pushed just the tip of his tongue into the tight, warm hole, eliciting renewed gasps and louder moans from the stimulated blond boy. Encouraged by this reaction, Brian, who had always wantonly enjoyed rimming his partners, let himself go, thrusting deeper and faster into the hot, tight entry, penetrating the perfect ass over and over again, savoring the taste of his sweet, sexy, provocative lover. 

It took hardly any time at all for Brian’s actions to prod Justin almost over the edge. The titillated teen was thrusting his hips back onto Brian’s probing tongue and then forward again to rub his weeping cock against the silken bed sheets. Brian felt the writhing body tense and the luscious hot little hole begin to pulse around his questing tongue and knew that the boy wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer.

Raising his head enough to speak, Brian whispered, “cum for me, Sunshine. It’s time.”

Justin joyfully obeyed, letting out an ungodly groan and convulsing while his orgasm rolled through his body, releasing all the pent up heat in spurt after spurt of hot, sticky cum, coating the sheets and his own abdomen. Before the last wave of Justin’s climax died down, Brian craftily inserted one long exploratory finger into the still pulsing pucker, causing a fresh wave of convulsions to course through the already writhing blond, who began chanting out, “Oh Brian! Oh. . . Brian. . . Brian. . . . Brian. . . . Oh. . . ” until he finally collapsed.

The wanton and erogenous response from his tantalizing young lover almost caused Brian to lose it as well. He had to use his free hand to tightly grip the base of his own penis to dampen the throbbing lust threatening to overwhelm him until Justin finally calmed and the wriggling youth relaxed back into the mattress. 

“That was perfect, Justin. You are so beautiful,” Brian proclaimed to the smiling, elated youth. “God that was so hot. You are just so fucking hot, Sunshine.” 

Unwilling to let up for more than a moment, Brian unexpectedly twitched the finger he still had resting inside the boy’s ass. Justin’s back arched and his hips rose up involuntarily at the stimulus. Brian followed up by initiating a slow, sensuous thrusting motion, using that one long digit to stroke the inside of Justin’s receptive, hot opening. Justin, who had just cum so hard he thought he might not get it up again till morning, was almost instantly aroused once more. And when Brian angled his finger slightly, prodding erotically against a new spot, Justin almost screamed out at the instant, mind-blowing electric jolt that zapped through his entire being.

“Looks like I just found your sweet spot, Sunshine,” Brian chortled smugly. “Do you like that, little boy? Tell me what you want,” he purred.

“I want . . . I want you. . . Brian. . . I need you. . . .Please. . . .” Justin’s pleading went on, becoming more unintelligible each time Brian shamelessly brushed against the boy’s prostate.

Feeling intuitively that the lad was ready for more, Brian tore open a packet of lube and squirted some on to the next finger in line before he inserted that also into Justin’s tight hot hole, spreading the fingers apart, working to loosen the rigid muscles. Trying to take his time, in spite of the constant pressure from his own dripping cock urging him to go faster, Brian used a third finger to stretch Justin even more, wanting to ensure that the untried boy was more than ready for what was coming next. 

Brian was quickly reaching a point where his control was abandoning him. Every movement of the tantalizing blond imp, every whimper and moan, had ignited another spark of desire, each combining and building up until he now felt as if there was a firestorm roiling in his gut which was about to explode. So far, he’d managed to hold himself back by concentrating solely on pleasing and preparing his boy, but what with the incessant pleading and the boy’s wantonly thrusting hips, he knew that whether Justin was ready or not, he could no longer rein in his own needs. 

Brian quickly withdrew his fingers and forcefully directed the now almost depraved youth over onto his back. Justin’s earlier fear had evaporated - he was now so overcome with the sensations his lover had evoked, feelings he didn’t even know he was capable of, that he no longer cared about or even remembered his inexperience. He was no longer capable of thinking, he could only feel, and he willingly let the overbearing, amazing pleasure that his talented, caring lover had engendered take him over completely.  
Without hesitation, Brian lifted Justin’s legs to rest on his shoulders and tore open a condom. Noting that Justin was oblivious to pretty much everything at this point, he sheathed himself and applied a generous amount of lubricant to his huge, twitching, hungry cock. Confidently aligning his shaft with Justin’s waiting and ready opening, he began to press steadily into the welcoming, tight enclosure, sighing as he finally felt the embracing walls of that perfect ass he’d been fantasizing about all week. He stopped only when he felt the boy’s muscles tightening, fighting back against the unexpected intrusion, pausing until the boy could adjust.

“It hurts, Brian. Why does it hurt so bad?” Justin questioned, clutching and scrabbling with his hands against the sheets. 

“It’s okay, Sunshine. It always hurts a little - that’s a part of it. Just relax and let me in. It’ll get much better, I promise,” Brian reassured the wary youth, pushing in a fraction of an inch further.

“I’ll try,” Justin replied, breathing in through his nose and allowing his body to sink back into the plush bedding. 

“That’s right. Good boy. Now, here we go.” Brian began to rock into him as soon as he felt Justin’s body up.  
opening 

Rocking and thrusting into the incredibly tight, velvety tunnel, Brian moved as gently as he could at first. Then, adjusting his angle so that each stroke would brush over and stimulate Justin’s prostate, he slowly increased his pace and the depth of each ramming motion, being egged on by his wanton boy’s brazen plaints echoing off the ceiling and walls. And, as the electrifying sensations multiplied along his hypersensitive shaft, causing each nerve ending to fire and send signal after signal back to the pleasure centers of his brain, Brian allowed himself to relinquish all control, giving in to the waves of bliss cascading through his body in a way he never had before with any other man. He was completely unaware when Justin came again, for the second time that night. The only thing Brian was aware of at that moment was the utter deluge of ecstasy coursing through him, as he came so incredibly hard and for so long that he momentarily lost touch with reality, feeling as if he were floating separate from his body. 

Brian didn’t even hear himself as he moaned aloud, “God. I love you, Justin. I so fucking love you!” 

Then, collapsing onto the seemingly boneless body of his sleepy, sated, blond lover, Brian let himself fall into a deep, contented lethargy, mindful only of the warm, pliant body snuggling into his chest and wrapping loving arms around him.

++++++++++++++++

It was a little after 2:00 am when Brian roused enough to notice that Justin was no longer nestled against his side. Raising up on one elbow, he saw light in the outer room and heard rustling noises. He struggled out of bed and padded out to see what his blond dynamo was up to. 

“I should have known you would be eating again,” Brian said with an indulgent smile when he found Justin wearing a plush terry cloth robe and curled up in an armchair with the bowl of strawberries balanced between his knees and his chest.

“Well, we never actually got to the dining part,” Justin teased. “I’m starving.”

“Sorry, Sunshine. I had planned to feed you more than just strawberries and champagne. You just distracted me a little too well.”

Brian ruffled the messy blond tresses of the happy little glutton, then moved towards the phone. To Justin’s delight, Brian called in a room service order for the two of them consisting of sandwiches, fries (for Justin) and a green salad (for Brian). Then, removing the bowl of berries, Brian pulled his glutton up, and led him smiling contently towards the shower, thinking that they probably had time for another quick round before the food was delivered.

+++++++++++++++++++

The boardroom of Grand Century Baking Co. wasn’t any different from the hundreds of other boardrooms Brian had been in before, he thought. He had been impressed though with the CEO, Geneva Pates, who was sharp as a tack and amazingly business savvy, considering her company was located in a relative backwater like Portland. The other board members present seemed to follow Pates’ lead without much dissention, which was a good thing considering that Brian thought she had been pleased so far with their presentation. 

Who knew bread could be edgy and sexy, Brian laughed to himself, but he had to admit that Justin’s proposed campaign was innovative, fun and, yes, sexy even. Justin himself had come off just as good, Brian was convinced, in spite of his relative youth and inexperience. The young man was just so personable and endearing that he seemed to win everyone he met over within a heartbeat. The enthusiastic artist always spoke with such conviction, Brian thought, and let himself acknowledge a moment of pride in his young lover. 

“Well, I think your ideas were quite remarkable,” Pates conceded at the conclusion of Brian’s spiel. “This is a remarkably clever and original campaign idea. I’m excited to take it to the full board for their decision. We’ll be meeting later this afternoon and I’ll let you know first thing tomorrow morning what we’ve decided.”

“Thank you Ms. Pates. Please let me know if you have any other questions or concerns,” Brian offered, standing to shake the CEO’s hand.

“Please, call me Geneva,” the woman replied. “We’ll be in touch.”

Brian watched as the smart and decisive woman gathered her things and left the room. Justin was already assembling all their materials, as well. Brian turned to say goodbye to the remaining corporate executives who had been present at the meeting. Shaking the hands of several middle aged, marketing and accounting types, he let the Kinney charm fairly ooze out. 

The last person to approach Brian with his congratulations was a younger man, casually attired, and reasonably attractive in an outdoorsy sort of way. The amiable young man, advanced on Brian with a suggestive smile on his rugged face, looking the tall Ad Man directly in the eye and holding his gaze a moment or two longer than strictly necessary. When he offered his hand, Brian felt the added little squeeze and the slightly lingering touch that immediately set his gaydar off. Brian happily recalled that this gentleman had been introduced as the CEO’s son, and corporate Vice President, Grant Pates, and he was thrilled with the opportunity this opening presented for him and Kinnetik.

“Mr. Pates, tell me, how did you like our presentation?” Brian began, using his patented Kinney smirk. 

“Grant, please,” was the hushed tenor response. “I was fascinated by your approach, Mr. Kinney. I’d love to explore all your ideas further sometime.”

“It’s Brian, and I’d love to explore things with you.” Brian rejoined, reaching out to wrap an arm around the other man’s shoulders, and turning them both towards the door. “Why don’t we go back to your office and I’ll show you what else I’ve got.”

Meanwhile, at the back of the conference room, a speechless Justin stood glaring as his partner left the room with another man, their intentions blatantly obvious, without even a backward glance at the man he’d spent most of the last eighteen hours making love with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you're reading and want more of the same, please take the time to leave me a comment or send kudos. TAG


	15. The Make Up Dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something starts to trigger Justin's 'lost' memories! Enjoy! TAG

Chapter 15 - The Make Up Dance.

The Grand Century boardroom was empty when Brian Kinney returned to it after spending twenty minutes or so briefing Grant Pates on what further services Kinnetik’s CEO could offer. Brian was confident that he had just clinched the deal - Grant had been especially accommodating and very appreciative. He had every expectation that Grant would push their proposal through with the board if it was at all within his power. Kinney could practically smell all that nice green cash that was soon going to be pouring into Kinnetik’s accounts. 

He was surprised to see that all the presentation materials were gone and that Justin was nowhere to be found either. He was a little annoyed that he’d have to waste time looking for the younger man. He was hungry and had thought to treat them both to a nice celebratory lunch. And then maybe some more celebrating back in their hotel suite. Where could the boy have gotten to, Brian wondered. 

He wandered out towards the lobby, keeping an eye out for his wandering blond, but there was still no blond twink evident anywhere in the environs. Brian approached the reception desk, waiting impatiently for the attractive young brunette answering the phones to acknowledge him. After about the third or fourth call, the young woman finally looked up at him and with a disinterested half-smile, and she asked him how she could help him.

“Well, Ms. Winnie Hutcherson,” Brian said, reading the woman’s name off the nameplate on the counter in front of her desk, “You could assist me by telling me if you had seen my business associate around anywhere. I’m ready to leave but he seems to be missing.”

“Do you mean Mr. Kinney?” Winnie asked the snarky older man, not inclined to be overly helpful in response to his sarcastic tone of voice.

“Excuse me?” Brian asked, momentarily confused.

“Cute, blond, about twenty and so much more pleasant than you? Said his name was Justin Kinney?” Winnie prompted.

“Yes, that would be him. Happen to know where he is?” Brian’s level of snark escalating in direct proportion to Ms. Hutcherson’s disdain. 

“Well, I don’t know precisely where he is right at the moment, but I would expect you might find him somewhere at the Governor Hotel since I called a cab for him to take him there about a half hour ago.” Winnie replied caustically, not waiting for a response as she turned her attention back to the blinking phone console.

“Thank you, so very much,” Brian said, mainly in order to have the last word, as he headed for the elevators. 

Brian was starting to get a bad feeling and he was sure that Justin was at the center of it.

++++++++++++++

Justin already had most of his clothing packed and was gathering his toiletries by the time Brian made it back to their hotel suite. Brian immediately got the distinct impression that Justin was angry about something - the red face and frown, along with the stomping feet and the man’s refusal to look at him, were dead giveaways. Brian thought he might know what was wrong, but wasn’t sure exactly why and thought it was best to make sure before he jumped to conclusions.

“Going somewhere, Sunshine?” Brian said as he leaned back against the door.

“Back to Pittsburgh,” Justin replied tersely.

“And you’re leaving now? Am I allowed to ask why? I believe our return flight isn’t scheduled to depart until tomorrow.”

Justin’s only response was a scathing sneer, the normally attractive youth’s eyes squinting and his mouth pursed up, lips almost white with anger.

“Okay. And what, pray tell are you going to do back in Pittsburgh, when you get there?”

“Find someplace to live.” Justin stowed the last of his belongings and zipped up his suitcase.

“I thought you already had someplace to live. You’ve been living with me, I believe.”

“Someplace else to live, then.” Justin hefted his suitcase in one hand, his portfolio bag over the other shoulder and reached for his carry-on with his free hand. Standing in front of Brian, who was blocking the door, he added, “Excuse me.”

“No.” Brian wasn’t going to move.

“Brian, get out of my way,” Justin demanded.

“No. I’m not getting out of your way. And you’re not leaving.”

“Yes, I am. Now, get out of my way!”

“You are going to have to talk to me first, Sunshine, because I’m not going anywhere and therefore neither are you.” Brian calmly explained to the furious, impatient young fireball.

“Fuck you, Brian,” Justin yelled, dropping his luggage and walking towards the hotel phone on the desk. 

Brian reached the phone only seconds after Justin had picked up the receiver. The strong, still calm, older man, grabbed the phone base-unit and jerked it away, pulling the cord right out of the wall socket in one swift motion. He then dropped the phone to the floor, crossed his arms and stood staring down at the dumbstruck blond, who was still holding the receiver hand-unit.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Brian. You can’t keep me here against my will,” Justin eventually managed to sputter.

“I think I can.” Brian responded equably. “However, you’re free to go, once you’ve told me exactly what it is you’re so upset about. So, why don’t we sit down, like reasonable adults, and you can tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Fine.” Justin pulled out the desk chair and plopped down into it, crossing his arms and staring at Brian in silent fury.

Brian dragged a chair away from the table, positioning it between Justin and the door, just in case, and sat down as well. “So, I take it that you’re pissed off at me,” Brian started since Justin so far had remained mute. “Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“Christ, I feel like I’m arguing with Gus.” Brian sighed. “Okay, I’ll bite. You’re angry about the guy at the board meeting.”

“Bingo.”

“I get that. But, again, why?”

“Why?” Justin was incensed and stupefied. “Brian, did we or did we not just spend most of last night making love in this very room? And then, before the bed’s even cold, you walk away from me with another man to go fuck him in his office? And you have no idea why that would get me angry? What kind of complete moron are you?” 

Justin started to rise from his chair, intent on once again making his escape, but Brian grabbed him by the wrist and pulled Justin into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around the smaller man. Justin put up only a token struggle, realizing quickly that he wouldn’t break free from the markedly stronger man’s grasp using force. 

“Listen to me, Justin. Are you listening?”

“Yes, Brian, I apparently don’t have any choice BUT to listen to you.”

-Shit. What the fuck does he want from me? . . . I’m fucking lousy at relationship shit. I’ve never done this before and I don’t even know where the fuck to start. . . . How the fuck did I get into a relationship anyway. . . . Brian Kinney doesn’t DO relationships or boyfriends or complicated or . . . . Or this. . . . Shit, shit, shit. . . . *sigh*. . . Alright, I can fix this. . . I’ll just . . . . What would the fucking munchers do? . . . . Fuck it, I just want to kiss him. . . I don’t want to fucking argue. . .So fucked!

Still holding tightly to Justin’s waist with one strong arm, Brian hooked his other hand around the angry fireball’s neck, catching him off guard, and pulled his still-furious face down, kissing him fiercely, not letting him pull away. Justin struggled valiantly for a few moments, but Brian would not relent, and eventually the little fireball’s body betrayed him, responding to the kiss of his lover, allowing himself to be pulled closer by the strong, implacable arms. 

As soon as the smaller man ceased to struggle, Brian loosened his grip on the man’s neck, allowing his fingers to thread through the silky, golden hair and stroking the smooth skin of Justin’s neck and cheek with this thumb.

“Justin,” Brian softly, hesitantly started. “I don’t want to fight. That . . . Back there at the meeting, that didn’t mean anything. I was just . . . closing the deal, you know. It’s the way I’ve always done things. . . .at least the way I did things. . . before you. I didn’t think . . . . I didn’t know you would be hurt. I’m. . . . Fuck, I’m sorry, Sunshine. Okay. I’ll say it again. I’m sorry. . . . Last night, that meant something . . .That fucking meant something. . . .” Then, even more quietly, Brian added, “I don’t want you to go.”

Justin leaned his forehead against Brian’s and simply sat like that for a long while, both men just breathing, holding onto each other and breathing. 

“Brian. I don’t think I can do this.” Justin finally broke the silence. “Maybe I wasn’t like this before the bashing, but I’m too fucking jealous now to share you.” Brian could see tears starting to gather in the sapphire blue eyes. “Especially after last night, Brian. That was . . . That was everything to me - everything I’ve ever wanted and dreamed about. At least, I think it’s what I’ve dreamed of.” Justin laughed bitterly, the tears finally falling down his cheeks. “I don’t want to go, Brian, but I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Justin,” Brian pleaded. “I don’t want you to leave, okay.”

Brian looked as if he were going to continue, but he was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He didn’t take his eyes off of Justin as he flipped the phone open and hit the ‘call’ button. 

“Kinney,” he answered. He listened for several moments without speaking. Then, “that’s fantastic, Geneva. I’m positive you won’t regret this. I’ll have my assistant email you the contracts and we’ll talk tomorrow to set up a production schedule.. . . . “Thank you, again.”

“We did it, Sunshine,” Brian said with a tongue-in-cheek smile. “We got the account.”

“Whoopee.” Justin said sadly. 

“Fuck this. Come on.” Brian lifted Justin off his lap and grabbing his hand, pulled him towards the bedroom. “We’re going to get dressed, and go out on the town to celebrate. We can fucking deal with all this other crap later.” When Justin started to interrupt, Brian shook his head to stop Justin from protesting. “I promise, we’ll figure this out, later. Okay? Just let me take you out and let’s have some fun, just for tonight.” 

++++++++++++++++++

It was 10:00 pm and Justin and Brian were still celebrating the Grand Century account. After getting cleaned up earlier, they’d had drinks and a early dinner at Jake’s Famous Crawfish Restaurant, a Portland Tradition, according to the concierge at the Hotel. From there, they’d walked to the few blocks to Pioneer Courthouse Square and done some light shopping - Brian wasn’t impressed with the more casual fashions typical of the Pacific Northwest - and people watching. Then, the couple had enjoyed a hilarious show at Darcelle’s, featuring (according to the program) ‘World Famous Female Impersonators’. The show at Darcelle’s had got them both laughing and feeling more playful again, in spite of their earlier argument. And now they were heading to the Crystal Ballroom, a renovated WWI era dance hall that offered nightly dancing and concerts. 

Brian was trying to distract Justin as much as possible and was being more attentive than he remembered ever having been with any other man. Of course, that wasn’t really that hard, since he’d NEVER bothered to try to be attentive to anyone before. Brian was trying hard not to think about why he was doing this - why he was working so hard to make Justin happy - he didn’t want to analyze it because he suspected it would just mess things up. So, Brian was concentrating on NOT concentrating and instead just having as much fun as they could.

It was 80’s night at the club, which suited Brian just fine as it reminded him of most nights at Babylon back home. He and Justin were a little overdressed for the more casual Portland scene but they didn’t care - they figured they looked hot in their designer suits and fuck the boring slobs dressed in ragged jeans and tees. They quickly downed two or three drinks, not their first of the night by a long shot, and shedding their jackets and ties, hit the dance floor.

Brian was instantly aware of how perfectly they meshed as they danced - it was like their bodies just fit together. Brian pulled Justin’s hips in closely to his own and draped his arms over the smaller man’s shoulders, while Justin’s arms loosely rested on the taller man’s hips and their foreheads touched. The two men swayed together, heedless of the beat as they lost themselves in their own private world. While this wasn’t strictly a ‘gay’ club, the laid back atmosphere of the club and the town in general, had put them at their ease and they felt no need to hide or even maintain a low profile. And apparently several other couples on the dance floor agreed that they seemed perfect together, since the handsome pair quickly gained a small audience.

When a slower song finally came on, Brian straightaway recognized Anne Murray’s “Could I Have This Dance” - an old favorite of the secretly sentimental brunet. Brian playfully bowed in a formal fashion to his dance partner and pulled Justin up into a waltzing ‘Closed Position’, gracefully guiding the tractable young blond through the classic waltz steps. The light-footed pair glided effortlessly around the floor, Brian twirling Justin around every so often and showing off some fancy steps, which his partner followed nimbly. At the end of the song, Brian squeezed Justin’s waist to signal him of the coming change of step and then dipped the flexible young man, raising him up into a passionate kiss. 

Brian was a little surprised when Justin didn’t return the kiss. He glanced down at Justin but the younger man didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, Justin’s gaze seemed fixed in space and his body was rigid in Brian’s arms. Brian could feel him trembling slightly. He wrapped his arms around the slim body and gently began to edge the boy towards a seating area at the back of the club.

“Justin. What is it,” Brian asked when they were seated far enough from the dance floor that they could more easily speak. “Justin? Are you okay?”

“Brian, I think I remember dancing with you, before.” Justin said in a small, far-away voice. “There were grey balloons everywhere. I was wearing a tux and you were there. You dipped me just like before, then we spun around and you kissed me.” The boy looked up Brian, wonder in his eyes. “Is that a real memory, Brian?”

-The fucking Prom. He remembered the Prom. . . . This is great - he’s starting to remember things. . . . The doctor said he might never regain any memories, but he’s actually starting to remember . . . . Shit. Is he going to remember about me and meeting me there? . . . Fuck. I need to tell him the truth - if he’s starting to remember stuff then I should just tell him. . . . But, fuck, he’s still sorta pissed at me about this morning. If I tell him everything he’s gonna be even more pissed off. . . . .What the fuck, I’ve got to tell him.

“Yeah, Justin. That’s a real memory.” Brian tried to maintain a smile as he spoke but he was so fucking nervous - he didn’t know how the boy was going to respond when he told him the whole story - this wasn’t going to be easy. “That was at your Prom. We danced together at your Prom.”

“I remember. That’s why all the balloons and shit. But, it’s all fuzzy. I can’t really remember anything except that dance.” Justin was trying so hard now to remember, his face was all screwed up and his vision was turned inward. 

“Justin. There’s more I need to tell you about that night.” Brian didn’t really know how to begin so he paused there, working up some additional courage. “I . . . . “

For the second time that day, Brian was interrupted by his ringing phone. He flipped it open and noted the caller ID showed the call was from Lindsey. Realizing it was close to 2:00 am in Pittsburgh, he knew immediately that this couldn’t be good news. 

“Lindz. What’s wrong,” Brian answered. He listened intently for several minutes, then said, “It’s going to be okay, Lindz. I’ll get the next flight back. I’ll call you back as soon as I know what time I’ll be arriving. Call me if anything changes.” 

Hanging up abruptly, Brian looked at Justin with an ashen face and panic clear in his eyes. 

“Gus is sick. He’s in the hospital. Lindsey said it was E. coli poisoning - they think it was from some fucking tainted spinach or some shit. I have to get back.”


	16. The Healing Powers of Paper Airplanes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little schmoopy and romantic. Hope you Enjoy! TAG

Chapter 16 - The Healing Powers of Paper Airplanes.

Justin was struggling a bit with the heavy pressboard tray full of drink and the bag of bagels and croissants while he simultaneously attempted to turn the door handle. He was grateful when someone inside the room pulled the door open for him. Melanie stepped aside to allow him in but didn’t smile at him at all, her attention immediately returning to the small, silent figure in the hospital bed. Justin efficiently began distributing coffees to everyone and then he set the bag with the food on the rolling hospital table, pulling out one plain bagel for himself. Unfortunately, now that he’d completed his self-appointed task of getting lunch for everyone and had nothing more to do, he felt just as useless as he had before he’d left on his errand. 

Brian looked up when Justin handed him half a bagel, but shook his head no. How the fuck could he eat while they were still unsure whether or not Gus would make it. The doctors had advised the parents that, while E. coli food poisoning was easily cured with modern antibiotics, the effect on children, the elderly and those with compromised immune systems was much more serious because of the risk of severe dehydration and the possibility of complications like kidney failure. Brian had heard all this but had only understood bits and pieces. All Brian could think of was that his son looked so small compared to that huge hospital bed.

He and Justin had arrived a little after 8:00 am - they’d been lucky enough to catch a midnight flight from Portland to Chicago, and then a commuter flight to the Pitts. Since then, they’d had nothing to do but sit and wait along with Lindsey and Mel. Gus had been unconscious since just after the girls had brought him to the hospital. Brian really detested the feeling that there was nothing he could do to help his son - that was almost harder to bear than the fact that Gus was ill.

Brian felt the warm, comforting weight of Justin leaning against him, sitting on the arm of the chair Brian was using, and the concerned father absentmindedly snaked an arm around the slim hips of the younger man. Justin had been there for him all night and he was incredibly grateful, but he didn’t know how to express this to the youth. Brian was so completely out of his depth when it came to dealing with the young man who was sitting next to him - he’d spent the first thirty years of his life trying to suppress all his emotions other than his driving ambition, and now, without any time to prepare, this beautiful, exasperating, captivating conduit of pure emotion had been thrown into his life. The emotional highs and lows he’d experienced over the past two weeks with this man had left him feeling wrung out and now he had to deal with his son being sick as well. Brian thought hadn’t felt this exhausted ever in his life, and it had nothing to do with a lack of sleep.

“Brian, please eat something,” Justin tried again, holding out a bite of the bagel towards the older man. “You’re not going to be any help to Gus if you make yourself sick.”

Brian turned to the concerned young man and, with a half-hearted attempt at a smile, opened up his mouth, allowing Justin to pop the piece of bagel inside. Justin smiled down at him and ruffled his hair affectionately, then firmly wedged the rest of the bagel into Brian’s hand, kissed the brunet locks and stood up to get himself another bagel. Justin then looked over at the two women who had been at the hospital even longer than he and Brian had, and had been up with a sick child for hours more before that. 

“Lindsey. Mel. Why don’t you two go home and try to get some sleep. Brian and I can stay with Gus for a while.” Justin offered, knowing that it was futile even as the words left his mouth. 

Lindsey offered the caring young man a sad little smile and shook her head, but said nothing. Justin was at a loss as to what more he could do to help these people he cared so much about. He was too full of restless energy though to just sit here any longer. Finally he made a decision and stood up with renewed purpose. He couldn’t help Brian or the others by sitting here, and Brian wouldn’t leave, so Justin would go and take care of all the other stuff that needed doing away from the hospital.

“Brian, I’m going to go back to the airport and get our luggage out of the baggage claim. Then, I’m going to stop in at the office and check with Cynthia about the Grand Century contracts and bring her up to date on everything. When I’m done there, I’ll be back and I’ll bring you back a change of clothes.” Justin thought it felt good to actually have a plan and something productive to do, He then turned to the two women. “Lindsey, Mel, I could stop by your place on the way and get you anything you need as well.”

Amazingly enough, Justin’s little ‘plan of action’ perked everyone up a bit. The girls handed over their house keys and made a quick list of what they wanted Justin to bring back. Brian reminded him about a couple details Cynthia and Ted would need to work on for the new account. When everything had been sorted out, Brian walked out to the elevator with Justin and kissed him tenderly as the young man turned to leave.

“Justin really is wonderful, Bri,” Lindsey commented as soon as Brian had returned to Gus’ room.

“He’s actually fucking amazing,” Mel piped in. “Why the hell is he wasting his time with you?”

“I have no fucking idea,” was all Brian said in response and the unheard of show of sentiment effectively shut both women up.  
+++++++++++++++++++++

The two women carried their Starbuck’s lattes to an empty table at the back of the coffee shop and sat down. Jennifer Taylor seemed even more on edge than usual, thought Daphne, who had been surprised when the older woman had met her on the front steps of school this afternoon and asked if she had time for a cup of coffee. They were both still worried about Justin, but since Daphne had actually seen her friend and knew he was okay, she had been less concerned. Daphne was actually more angry at Justin now than worried - she couldn’t fathom why her best friend had just abandoned her without calling and wasn’t returning any of her calls either. 

“Thank you for coming with me, Daphne,” Jennifer began. “I think maybe I need your help with something.”

“Of course, Mrs. Taylor. What can I help with.” Daphne was getting even more confused by the worry evident in the other woman’s voice and on her face.

“Well, you see, after you told me you’d seen Justin, I thought it was important to call the police and let them know. I mean, if the witness that said she’d sold Justin a bus ticket to New York was mistaken, then the police looking for him would want to know that, right?” Jennifer was a little hesitant as she began her explanation. 

She was still reeling from her discoveries over the past couple of days and didn’t know exactly what to do next. She was hoping the smart young woman sitting across from her would have some better ideas. “Anyway, I called the police station closest to our home, but they told me they didn’t have any record of a missing person’s report having been filed regarding Justin. I asked Craig about it but he just blew me off and ordered me to drop the matter. Of course, that just pissed me off, so after I thought about it some more, I decided to do a little investigating on my own.” Taking a deep breath, Jennifer launched into the full disclosure of her suspicions. “So, I spent the past couple days contacting every police precinct in the city. None of them have any record of a missing persons report on Justin.”

“But, I thought your husband said he’d filed the report and that he’d talked to the police several times, too?” Daphne questioned. “If he never filed any report, then . . . . what was all that about a witness who said she’d seen Justin at the bus station? 

“Exactly my point.” Jennifer agreed, reassured that Daphne had caught on so quickly. “I think. . . no, I KNOW that Craig has been lying to me about all this. He never filed any missing persons report and that means he must have made up all that drivel about the bus station. What I don’t know is why he would do something like this. He knows how worried I’ve been about Justin. Why would he deliberately mislead me about this? And, if Justin is still here in the city, why hasn’t he contacted me? Or, answered his phone for that matter? This just doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know that was Justin I saw last Sunday, Mrs. Taylor. I know it. That means that he must still be here in the city and at least we know he’s okay.” Daphne reasoned. “I don’t know why he hasn’t called you or me back, though. It’s just not like him to disappear. Even when he went AWOL before, he always told ME where he was headed.”

“I agree. This is definitely not like my son. And, I don’t trust Craig anymore - he’s not going to help us find Justin. So, I thought maybe you and I could formulate our own plan - if we work together, maybe we can find Justin and figure out what’s going on.”

++++++++++++++++++

Brian was dozing in his chair next to Gus’ bed when he heard it. “Da da.” He bolted upright and could have shouted with joy when he saw those two huge round hazel eyes finally open and staring at him. He didn’t want to started the boy, though, so he tamped down his enthusiasm.

“Hey, Sonny boy. I’m glad to see you’re finally awake.” Brian murmured, reaching over to touch the soft brown hair on his son’s head. “How are you feeling, Gus?”

“Tummy hurts.” Gus said, screwing up his eyes in preparation for crying.

“I know your tummy hurts, Sonny boy. Don’t worry though, the doctors have given you some medicine that’s gonna make you all better, okay.” Brian sat on the side of the bed, gathering the small child into his arms, desperate to fend off the boy’s tears. “Your Mama and Mommy are going to be so happy to see you awake. We’ve all been really worried about you all night long. But, now you’re gonna get better in no time. Okay.”

“Mama?” Gus asked.

“Your moms will be right back, Gus. They just went to get some food and coffee. But see, I’m going to call them right now and they’ll come back as fast as lightening. You’ll see.” Brian said, pulling out his cell and speed dialing Lindsey - damn the hospital regulations against cell phone use. 

Twenty minutes later, when Justin returned to the hospital, he was overjoyed to see an alert and smiling Gus surrounded by now smiling adults as well. The boy was sitting up in the over-large hospital bed with Brian right next to him and Lindsey and Mel hovering on the far side of the bed. Brian was trying to get Gus to drink some water from a colorfully decorated sippy cup while the boy was complaining about the I.V. needle in his arm. The difference in the atmosphere now from when he’d left was palpable.

“Jus’n!” Gus yelled happily as soon as he saw the smiling young man entering the room. 

“Hey, Gussie! Are you giving your parents a hard time over there?” Justin teased.

“Hey, Sunshine.” Brian smiled radiantly at the dazzling blond who was beaming that blinding sunshine smile into the room. “Look who woke up.”

“I see that.” 

Justin handed Lindsey her keys and pointed the women towards one of the small overnight bags he’d dropped just inside the door. Then he leaned against Brian’s back and wrapped his arms around the man, squeezing tight, conveying his happiness through this touch. When Brian twisted his neck around to leave a happy little peck on the younger man’s cheek, Justin knew that everything was finally going to be alright. 

After the doctor had come in to check on the antsy little patient and had reassured the parents that the boy was improving nicely, Justin managed to talk all three of them into taking a break to change and get some food while he stayed with Gus for a few minutes. When Brian re-entered the room several minutes later, he found both boys happily involved in tearing pages out of a battered old National Geographic magazine and creating a fleet of paper airplanes, many of which had already seen their maiden flights and were littering the floor of the room everywhere. Neither had seen Brian yet, giving the man a chance to observe the pair without their knowledge.

-Fucking adorable! They are so cute playing together like that. . . . Shit. Did I just think of my boyfriend as ‘cute’? . . . . Double shit - did I just think of him as my fucking ‘boyfriend’? What the fuck is happening to me? . . . . Get a SERIOUS grip, Kinney. You are fucking losing it! . . . This is moving way too fucking fast - I’ve only known the kid a couple weeks. Where is all this lesbionic crap coming from? . . . I’ve got to rein this fucking sentimental shit back or I’m gonna be so fucked.

Brian adroitly caught the next paper airplane to head his way and, disregarding everything he’d just told himself, he playfully lept onto the bed, kissing first Gus and then Justin and energetically joining in with the airplane construction. Mel and Lindz were dazzled when they returned a few minutes later to find the laughing, upbeat trio. Mel thought she was about to faint when she even heard the normally taciturn Brian actually GIGGLING as he watched his latest airplane creation nose dive and crash immediately after take-off. This was so completely out of character for the Brian Kinney she knew that she was completely speechless, which was practically unheard of for the brash outspoken attorney.

When Brian Kinney looked over at Melanie and impishly smiled at her, launching a new paper airplane directly at her chest, and then laughed unrestrainedly at her astonished expression, Melanie Marcus just collapsed into the nearby chair, shaking her head in wonder, contemplating if it was Brian or herself that needed to be committed to a sanitorium first, because one of them had obviously lost it completely.


	17. St. James Academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to UP the drama factor, folks. Hope you enjoy! TAG

Chapter 17 - St. James Academy.

By Monday morning Gus was back at home, once again happy and healthy, and everyone in the family had vowed to never again eat ‘Organic’ raw spinach. Brian and Justin had spent pretty much the whole weekend with Gus and the girls, and when they weren’t at the hospital or the girls’ house, they were most likely to be found in bed at the loft. They still hadn’t resolved all the issues that the Portland trip had brought up, but they were both too happy about Gus’ recovery and the prospects of the Grand Century account to get into the dispute again right away. Justin was biding his time and was prepared to confront Brian as soon as the opportunity arose. In the meantime, though, the boys were happily fucking like bunnies as often as they could get their hands on each other. 

This morning, however, it was back to business as usual at Kinnetik. The first topic that came up at the staff meeting that day was hiring the additional employees they would need to handle all the new accounts and campaigns Brian and Justin had brought in recently - especially the Grand Century account which would require huge amounts of manpower over the next six months. Cynthia was tasked with contacting the local art schools to recruit potential art department candidates who would be interviewed by Justin and Brian together. Brian was in charge of bringing in, or more precisely ‘stealing’, at least one new account executive, and he already knew who he thought could be easily wooed away from Vanguard. 

Justin was thrilled when Cynthia informed him at lunch that she already had one potential candidate for the art department - someone who had been recommended by a professor at the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts. The applicant was even able to come in for an interview that very afternoon. The sooner the better, Justin thought, as he was already feeling overwhelmed as the stack of work on his desk kept growing exponentially.

When the applicant arrived, Brian was unfortunately tied up in another conference call, so Justin reluctantly started the interview on his own. He was feeling awkward and a little insecure to start with because he didn’t think he’d ever done anything like this before. That feeling of insecurity only got worse when he started the interview and realized that Philip, the applicant sitting before him, was at least six years older than him, with a BA from PIFA and tons more experience than him. Justin’s fears of inadequacy came to a head though when the applicant asked him where he’d gone to college and Justin, of course, didn’t have any answer. 

Brian saved the day by joining the interview at that point. Both men were impressed with the candidate right from the start and felt he had a great deal of potential. Brian, who was never one to waste time under any circumstances, and who was working under the additional impetus of the snowballing load of work they needed immediately help with, decided to hire Philip on the spot, telling him he could start tomorrow morning. 

After working much later than they would like, Brian and Justin finally called it a day around 9:00 pm and decided to stop at the Diner for a bite to eat on their way home. Justin, usually a regular little chatterbox, was rather quiet all through dinner, prompting Brian to take the plunge and ask him what was wrong. When Justin still hesitated before responding, Brian knew it was going to be one of THOSE conversations and sat back, reluctantly prepared to endure whatever emotional upheaval might be thrown at him.

“Brian, I was thinking this afternoon about maybe going to college in the fall,” Justin started out. “After talking to Philip and all, I realized that I can’t really be Kinnetik’s Art Director. I know you were just being nice by giving me the title - especially after I’d only been working for you for like a week. And, believe me, I have absolutely no regrets about sleeping with the boss to get ahead,” he teased. “But we both know I don’t have the experience for the job.”

“You’re wrong, Justin,” Brian adamantly interrupted the younger man. “You saw Philip’s portfolio today. He might have more experience than you, but you have to agree that he isn’t half as good of an artist. I’ve seen your stuff, and so have our clients, and it’s fantastic. I never would have landed the Grand Century account without you.”

“But that still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have a degree or any other experience to my name.” Justin argued. “Come on, Brian. How’s it going to look to potential clients researching the company when it turns out Kinnetik’s Art Director is some eighteen year old kid who doesn’t even have a degree. Fuck, I don’t even know if I’ve got a high school diploma. I just . . . I don’t want to hold you back or cost your company any potential clients,” Justin ended apologetically.

“Fine. So you’ll get a degree. But in the meantime, you are still my Art Director.” Brian was not open to discussion on this point. “How am I going to explain it to Geneva Pates if my ‘brilliant, innovative young artist’ - her words - up and disappears on me?” Brian grinned at the young artist in question, who now looked much less downcast. “So where are we sending you to school, Sunshine?”

“Well, . . . It probably isn’t possible, but . . . I did a little quick research on PIFA while I was preparing for Philip’s interview and it looks like the best art program around,” Justin enthused. “It’s not easy to get in though. They have hundreds of applicants each year but only accept less than a hundred for each class. I have no idea if I could get accepted.”

“We’ll figure out something,” Brian volunteered, pointedly ignoring the fact that he was using the pronoun ‘we’ and was sitting here planning a future out with this man he’d known less than a month. 

“First I’ll have to get my transcripts from high school. And, I’ll have to take the ‘SAT’s, if I haven’t already.” Justin was already starting to plan. “And, I’ll have to put together a portfolio - maybe Lindsey can help me with that. Shit, there’s a lot to do and the application deadline is coming up pretty soon.”

After several minutes of silence, Brian looked up from his salad again to find Justin staring at him with an odd look on his beautiful pale face. 

“What?”

“Um, so, where do I go to get my school transcripts?” Justin asked in a subdued voice, biting his lip as he watched the slew of emotions crossing Brian’s handsome face.

“St. James Academy,” Brian answered. “It’s out near the Highland Park suburb.”

Brian had actually known the name of the school for sometime now - Ted had come across the information while he was researching Justin’s background in order to complete all the employment forms for the newly hired employee. 

“Blue jackets and blue and gold striped ties,” Justin said.

“Huh?” Brian asked. Justin’s comment had come completely out of the blue.

“The school made us wear uniforms. We had to wear these god awful blue sports jackets and ties - even the girls had to wear the damn ties.” Justin added. “Is that right, Brian?”  
“I don’t know, Justin. I never saw your school uniform. It sounds about right, though, for that type of place.”

“So. That’s two real memories, now. At this rate I should have my entire life back by the time I’m what, sixty?”

“Don’t push it, Sunshine. You know the doctor said that the harder you try to remember, the less you’ll recall. The memories will come back in their own time.”

“If they come back at all,” Justin sounded defeated.

“Well, you have two more memories than you had a week ago, at least,” Brian consoled the young man. “Come on. It’s too late to be having fucking philosophical discussions. I’ll buy you a beer at Woody’s and then we can head home.” Brian pulled out his standard distraction techniques, determined to avoid the discussion of Justin’s past for at least another night.

++++++++++++++++++

Brian had tried to discourage Justin from coming with him today to St. James’ to pick up the needed transcripts. Brian had called the school earlier to see if they couldn’t just order them by phone and avoid the trip altogether, but he’d been told that it could take up to two weeks to get them sent by mail and that it would be faster to just come in person. Since Justin was insistent that he needed them as soon as possible, Brian was left with little choice but to drive all the way out to the suburbs. And Justin had insisted that he come along.

Brian hated the fucking ‘burbs. He always felt like people were staring at him out here in hetero-ville, which is probably because they were. The tall, handsome, fashionably dressed man always attracted attention wherever he went. It was just that out here, away from the relatively safe and comfortable environment of Liberty Avenue, he wasn’t sure drawing attention to himself was a good thing. He wasn’t going to compromise his ‘fuck em all’ attitude though, so he just tried to ignore the feeling of the eyes following him.

His lack of comfort wasn’t helped much by the fact that he was nervous about bringing Justin out here, both because of the possibility that the youth would recover more memories that would be difficult for Brian to explain and also because he wanted to protect Justin from another run-in with his prom night attacker. He hated feeling like some kind of mother-hen, but he couldn’t help worrying about the young man he’d come to care so much for. No fucking way was he going to let Justin come to this school alone. 

The pleasant, but decidedly unintelligent, School Secretary that had been assisting them for the past forty minutes was starting to get on Brian’s nerves. Actually, she’d started getting on his nerves about five minutes after they’d arrived, but by now she was so aggravating that Brian was honestly contemplating strangling her if the woman didn’t shut up and just get on with things.   
She was apparently more interested in gossiping about school functions, other students and sundry other things and wasn’t in any hurry to get the transcripts completed. She was also cluelessly intent on asking Justin all about where he’d been for the past couple of weeks and how his parents were and a million other things that Justin had no idea how to answer. Brian had been biting his tongue so he didn’t scream at the woman to leave Justin alone and just get the fucking transcripts done so they could get out of here.

Justin was busy trying to assimilate all the new information he’d learned about himself from this very talkative woman. In the few minutes they’d been here, he’d learned more about his past life than Brian had told him in the past several weeks. The secretary had been talking to him like they were old friends, or at the very least long-time acquaintances. Much of what she’d said to him had gone right over his head - references to people he didn’t remember and events he couldn’t recall. A lot of what she’d said seemed to be just random babbling. A few things though had made a definite impression.

The most stunning discovery was that his last name was apparently ‘Taylor’ and not ‘Kinney’. The woman had also said that she had talked to his mother not long ago. Finally, he’d also learned that he was a pretty good student and that all he needed to do to graduate was pass his final exams - which he could arrange to take privately if he wasn’t coming back to school. Since there were only two weeks of school left in the semester, it really didn’t seem necessary. None of these disclosures had triggered any new memories, but nonetheless, Justin was dying to get out of here so he could talk to Brian privately - he had a LOT of questions for the silently stewing brunet seated beside him. 

After another five minutes, when it still didn’t look like they would be leaving anytime soon, Justin excused himself to use the toilet, squeezed Brian’s hand affectionately as he stood up and then headed down the hallway. As he finished at the urinal and was zipping himself up, he noted the entrance of another person who had come into the toilet and then stopped abruptly about five paces behind where Justin was standing. Justin pivoted and was heading to one of the sinks, when he suddenly recognized the bulky, sandy-haired young man standing before him, sneering with hatred at the startled blond. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Taylor,” Chris Hobbs sniggered. “I didn’t figure you had the guts to show up back here. Where’s your pansy-assed butt-fuck buddy, hm? I fucking owe him big time for this goddamned cast he put me in. He fucking broke my leg in two places. If it doesn’t heal in time for football in the fall, I’ll fucking kill that asswipe.”

Justin hadn’t said a word the entire time Hobbs was berating him. He had just slowly backed away from the aggressively violent jock who he now remembered had been responsible for putting him in the hospital. The feverish waves of memory flooding over him had Justin almost paralyzed. His only conscious thought was to get away from Hobbs, but his couldn’t seem to move his feet correctly. When his back came up against the tiled wall, he sank down in a crouch, huddling against the wall, staring in abject fear at his assailant who was now practically howling with laughter. 

“Fucking useless faggot. You’re not even worth wasting my time on,” Hobbs sneered again menacing the smaller boy curled up on the floor. “But hear this, cocksucker. You better keep your fucking mouth shut about what happened at prom. You hear me? If you say one word to anyone, I’ll come after you and your faggot boyfriend so fucking hard that you’ll think what happened that night was a pleasure cruise.” 

With that, Hobbs lost his grip on his anger and started kicking at Justin’s huddled form, bracing one arm against the wall so he could balance on his injured leg and still get pretty decent leverage with his good foot in order to land several bruising kicks on the arms, legs and torso of the scared teen. After a minute or two, a bell rang signalling the end of the class period and Chris held back on his final kick. Thinking that it was likely that the toilet would get a lot busier as students transitioned between classes, he decided to get away before he was caught in the act, so Hobbs quickly hobbled out the door, leaving Justin shaking in a heap on the floor. 

Brian had finally got the finished transcripts from the gregarious, nosy biddy and couldn’t wait to get out of this place if only Justin would hurry up. He’d had a bad feeling ever since Justin had left the office but he wasn’t the kid’s mother - Justin didn’t need him to hold his hand while he took a piss. Brian was trying to wait patiently for the youth to return, but after the fifth inane comment out of the nosy secretary’s mouth, he decided to make a run for it and grab Justin out of the toilet on his way. 

The hallways were packed with kids going from one class to another so it took Brian a few minutes to navigate his way to the nearest men’s room. When he finally located it, he couldn’t get through the doors - there was a crowd of people standing in the hall and around the door completely blocking access to the facilities. He knew right away though that something was wrong - the bystanders were whispering and pointing at the door, asking each other what was happening. 

Shouldering his way through the throng, Brian pushed his way into the small room and felt his heart drop through his chest at what he saw inside. Justin was lying on the floor in the far corner, curled into a fetal position with his arms wrapped around his head and body. Brian could see blood dripping from cuts on his arms as the boy tried to shield himself from the overly helpful good samaritans who were trying to get closer to the scared boy. Justin was in full panic mode though and kept shouting at them all to ‘stay away’. Right as Brian entered, an older man, who was probably a teacher, leaned over Justin and reached out to touch the cringing boy’s arm. Brian watched in horror and Justin tried to scuttle even farther away, yelling, “Don’t touch me,” at the bewildered teacher.

Brian immediately took charge, pushing the gawking students out of the way so he could get to Justin. He unceremoniously elbowed the teacher aside and hunched down next to his frightened young lover. He hesitated to try to touch the boy, who was obviously out of his mind with fear, and likely wouldn’t even recognize Brian’s touch right now.

“Justin. It’s okay, Justin.” Brian said with as calming a tone as he could force into his voice. “It’s me, Brian. I’m here. Can you sit up for me, Sunshine.” Brian kept talking calmly and softly, not touching the boy, until Justin finally seemed to realize who was next to him.

“Brian?” Justin pushed himself up into a more or less sitting position, but was still huddled in on himself.

“Yeah, Sunshine. I’m here.” Brian finally let his hand reach out and lightly touch the young man’s shoulder, rubbing small circles into the material of the boy’s shirt with his thumb. “Hey, let’s get you out of here, okay?” Brian offered. “Justin, can you get up for me? You want to get out of here and go home?”

Justin nodded, silently. Brian moved his hand slowly around the youth’s shoulders, exerting just enough pressure to cause the small frame to lean into the stronger man’s side. Then, Brian scooped his free arm under Justin’s legs and lifted the boy up off the floor gripping him protectively in his arms. 

“Do you want me to call an ambulance,” the officious teacher asked Brian as he started for the bathroom door.

“No! Brian, I don’t want to go to the hospital. Please.” Justin shouted with a renewed sense of panic.

“It’s okay, Sunshine. We won’t do anything you don’t want.” Brian calmed him again. Then, turning to the teacher, he added, “Just help me get him out of here and I’ll take care of him myself.” 

The teacher complied with the authoritative brunet who seemed to be the only one able to control the terrorized boy. He efficiently cleared a path for them through the masses rubbernecking outside the men’s room door and then led Brian to the nearest exit. Brian thanked the man brusquely and headed for the Jeep as rapidly as he could. He carefully deposited Justin in the passenger seat then tipped the boy’s chin up so he could get a better look at his injuries.

“How bad are you hurt, Justin,” Brian asked. 

Even though he’d agreed not to do anything Justin didn’t want, he was still worried that the boy’s injuries might need medical attention. Justin didn’t respond - he just sat in the seat, rocking slightly back and forth, with his arms clamped tightly around his middle. Brian stroked the side of the sweet boy’s face, noticing the already darkening bruise there, and patiently waited for Justin to respond.

“I want to go home. Please, Brian. Just take me home,” Justin whispered.

“Okay, Sunshine. But, when we get home you have to let me look at your injuries to see how bad you’re hurt. Agreed?” 

When there was no response, Brian gently closed the passenger door, went around to the drivers side and got in, without further discussion. He quickly started the car’s engine, put the car in gear and pulled out of the school parking lot.

+++++++++++++++++

Daphne had study hall between second and third periods and had elected to go with some friends down the block to a nearby coffee shop today instead of studying in the library. As she neared the school on her way back, she saw a black Jeep driving off and just happened to be looking in the right direction as it sped past to see the car’s passenger - she’d only got a brief glimpse, but she was almost positive that the passenger was her friend Justin. 

Surprised beyond words, Daphne, rushed towards the school, intent on finding out if anyone else had seen Justin there. She didn’t even have to go through the front doors though before she heard several people mentioning Justin’s name. Cornering the first person she came across, Daphne heard the astonishing story of how her best friend had been found beaten up in the men’s restroom and had then been whisked away by a mysterious, tall, glamorous brunet.


	18. Greed Breeds Hatred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we find out the real reason behind Craig's actions. Greedy little bastard. Enjoy. TAG

Chapter 18 - Greed Breeds Hatred.

This dive was only slightly less horrible than the previous one, Craig Taylor decided. At least this place didn’t smell like a moldy basement. The drinks were watered down though, and that pissed Craig off. He looked at his watch for the fifth time, wondering how much longer he should wait. Carter had told him to meet him here and that he had a lot of new information, though, so Craig decided it was worth it to wait another 10 minutes or so. 

The disreputable looking private detective finally rambled in twenty minutes late. Craig saw he was still wearing the same shabby leather jacket with a hole in the sleeve and wondered why, after all the money he’d paid the guy already, Carter hadn’t bought himself a new one. But, what the hell, so far he’d been worth the money, so Craig guessed it didn’t really matter what the guy wore. It wasn’t like they were going to be seen together socially, after all.

Carter turned the chair on the opposite side of the table around backwards and straddled it. The pudgy, sallow faced man tossed a manilla file folder down on the table, its contents partially spilling out, one sheet landing with its edges soaking up a puddle of beer that Craig had spilled earlier. Carter waved a waitress over and gave her his drink order before pulling out a pack of smokes, extracting one and lighting up. 

“Evening Taylor,” Carter started off the meeting trying to be amiable.

“Fuck the pleasantries. Is that everything?” said Craig, pointing to the file.

“Yep. Everything I’ve got so far.”

Craig opened the file and started looking through the documents and photos inside while Carter slowly sipped his whisky and smoked his cigarette. Craig pulled out one 8x10 photo of what appeared to be an old brick building hiding in the shadows of a run down warehouse. If it weren’t for the trendy, modern-looking, signage in front, he might have thought the building was abandoned.

“This is where the guy works?” Craig asked, indicating the photo.

“Yep. Company is called ‘Kinnetik’. The building is an old bath house, if you can believe it,” Carter seemed to find this fact funny, but Craig wasn’t amused. “It also happens to be where your kid is working now, “ Carter added.

“Working? Doing what? The little asshole doesn’t know the first thing about working. I tried to get him to work in one of my stores once and all he did was sit around all day drawing shit on the backs of the invoices.” Craig scoffed at the idea of his son, the fag, being at all productive.

“Well, according to the company’s website, he’s the company’s new Art Director.” Carter also seemed to find this amusing. “Maybe you should have encouraged that drawing shit a little more, hm? The company seems pretty ritzy and that Kinney guy has pretty expensive tastes, so he must be bringing in good dough. Not a bad job, I’d say, for an eighteen year old.”

Craig wanted to wipe that smirk off the fat fuck’s face, but Carter had a certain reputation, so Craig didn’t dare. He decided instead to focus back on the file full of documents, going through several more photos showing Justin and Brian at various locations and times. One photo in particular, showing the two kissing while standing on a sidewalk in front of some restaurant, made Craig’s blood boil and almost caused him to gag. Craig shoved that one to the back of the file. Then he came across a copy of a yearbook photo page and held it up to Carter for an explanation.

“That one - the one I circled - that’s the guy, I think, who put your kid in the hospital in the first place. Name’s Chris Hobbs. Goes to school with your kid. I talked with some of the hotel staff and showed them the yearbook. One guy said he saw your kid and this Hobbs guy fighting in the lobby,” Carter went on, bragging about his detective work. “The guy I talked with said they had to drag this Hobbs kid off Justin and then they tossed him on his ass outside. My guy was pretty certain about the I.D. He said the kid actually hit him a good one in the gut and he wasn’t likely to forget the punk. Plus, the Hobbs kid showed up the next day like this,” Carter pulled out another photo showing Hobbs wearing a cast. “According to the police report, what there was of one, Kinney told the cops he thought he’d broken the attacker’s leg, but the police didn’t know whether to believe him or not since the kid managed to get away before the cops got there.”

“Good work, Carter,” Craig conceded. “We might be able to use this to our advantage.” 

After looking over a few more documents, Craig raised his gaze to the P.I. “Anything else important?”

“Just this,” Carter added with another annoying smirk, pulling a smaller photo out of the inside pocket of his jacket and tossing it down on top of the pile on the table.

“What the fuck is this?” asked Craig, picking up the photo of his wife, Jennifer, and that neighbor brat sitting together in some coffee shop.

“You told me to make sure the kid had no contact with your wife and you said to keep an eye on her to make sure she wasn’t meddling, so I’ve been keeping an eye on her.” Carter explained. “She’s gonna cause you problems if you’re not careful, Taylor. I got close enough here to overhear what these two were talking about. They’re planning on doing a little detective work of their own. And we both know the kid isn’t really going to be that tough to find if they really put any effort into it.”

“Goddamn it, Jenn. I told you to stay the fuck out of this,” Craig slammed his beer down on the table.

“It’s definitely not in your best interest to let your wifey run amok like this. You don’t want her actually finding the kid and bringing him back home, do you, Taylor? That would probably put a kink in YOUR love life, not to mention your business, wouldn’t it?” Carter said, looking over at the scantily clad waitress as he said it, but craftily keeping Craig in view out of the corner of his eye.

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Craig spat, trying to sound offended, but coming across instead as defensive.

“I’m talking about that little - or, rather, not so little - trust fund of the kid’s that you’ve been helping yourself to hand over fist for the past few weeks,” Carter explained, turning his attention fully back to Craig.

“I. . . . I don’t. . . I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Craig sputtered.

“You think I didn’t look into your background a little too, Craig? I like to know who I’m working for, you know. And it didn’t take much to figure out you’re spending a lot more than your floundering little business is bringing in, especially on that hot little redhead you’ve got in that condo downtown.” Carter was definitely grinning now. 

“So, I took one of the tellers from your bank out for dinner and a few drinks one night and boy was I surprised to find out that you were the administrator of your son’s trust fund - the one his very rich grandfather set up for his education. The teller was very accommodating after the fourth or fifth drink, and even told me about how the bank’s auditor was getting concerned about how quickly that account was being depleted.” Carter stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray in front of him. “You wouldn’t want the kid coming back and asking inconvenient questions about where his college fund had disappeared to, now would you? And that’s exactly what’s likely to happen if your wifey goes snooping around down on Liberty Avenue looking for the boy.”

“What are you proposing?” Craig asked, knowing he was trapped like a rat in a cage.  
“Well, for a certain percentage of that little trust fund, I could easily get the kid out of Pittsburgh for you,” Carter explained, with a nasty grin spreading across his lined and paunchy face.

++++++++++++++++++

Brian stood at the foot of the bed, observing Justin as the younger man slept. Brian wasn’t sure that the younger man should be sleeping this much. He didn’t think that Justin had a concussion, he hadn’t seen any obvious head injuries other than the one on his face, but the boy had been sleeping for four hours or so and Brian was getting anxious. Brian finally determined it was time to wake him and make the boy eat something and hopefully get him a little better cleaned up.

Sitting down on the side of the bed, Brian ran his hand up and down the sleeping man’s arm and then gently stroked the soft skin on the boy’s bruised cheek, feeling the warmth of the broken blood vessels underneath. Justin stirred a little, muttering in his sleep and turning his head away from Brian’s touch. Brian bent over and kissed the exposed tendon on the side of the boy’s long slender neck, nibbling a little on the sensitive spot and evoking a contented little, “mmmmm” from the now half awake blond.

“Dinner time, Sunshine,” Brian said with a forced cheerfulness. “Nap time’s over. We need to get all little blond boys up and fed and then it’s your bath time. And, if you’re good, we can even have a little playtime before you go beddy-bye.”

Justin opened his eyes and smiled up at the gorgeous brunet man waiting for him at his bedside and started to roll over to face the man, but stopped with a loud groan when he felt a sharp stab of pain in his ribs. The pain brought back to him all the horrendous events of the morning and wiped the smile off his face pretty quickly. Brian reached down with one arm and helped Justin sit up, rubbing, stroking and touching the injured man the entire time in an effort to give what comfort he could. 

Once Justin was seated on the side of the bed, Brian got up and pulled some sweat pants out of the drawer and helped the other man pull them on. Brian was unfortunately familiar with the after effects of the type of beating Justin had received and knew how stiff the boy’s muscles would be and how much that added to the pain of the bruises and torn flesh. He had quickly checked Justin out as soon as they had arrived at the loft, and was fairly certain no bones were broken, but the youth hadn’t let him do more than a cursory examination at the time, so Brian wasn’t sure of the total extent of his injuries. He thought that, at the very least, Justin had several bruised ribs, which Brian knew from experience would be incredibly painful and would hamper the young man’s range of motion. 

Brian managed to help Justin down to the kitchen and poured him a bowl of soup from a pot heating on the stove. He also gave him two ibuprofen and a glass of water. Then he served himself a bowl and sat on the stool next to Justin. The two men ate in silence for the duration of the meal, Brian glancing over at Justin every few minutes and occasionally reaching over to stroke an arm or a thigh, just to remind the other man that he was here for him. When the meal was done and all cleaned up, Brian came up to Justin and laid a hand on his shoulder, urging the youth to turn to face him.

“Justin, we need to get you cleaned up and bandage some of those cuts. You wouldn’t let me touch them before. Are you better now?” Brian began, glad to see Justin nod in agreement finally. “Come on, then. We’ll take a shower first.”

Justin let Brian guide him to the bathroom, remove the sweats and then lead him under the warm water which cascaded gently over his sore body. The older man used his long-fingered, sensitive hands to carefully wash the bruised and aching body, paying extra attention to each cut and then shampoo the golden mop of hair. Justin, who hadn’t cried a single tear since the incident at the school, stood there submissively, letting Brian take care of him and feeling more cherished and pampered that he could ever remember. And finally, as he relaxed into the tender ministrations of his gentle lover, Justin let go and allowed the tears to come. Brian felt the youth’s shoulders begin to shake and quickly wrapped his arms around the young man, holding him up and patiently waiting until Justin’s emotions had run their course. 

When he felt the boy quieting, Brian turned the shower off and toweled Justin dry then sat him on the bed and wrapped the duvet around the now exhausted blond man. He quickly dried himself as well and then slid into the bed next to the distressed young man, embracing him tightly and resting his head atop the damp blond head. He didn’t want to acknowledge the overwhelming desire to protect and keep this young man safe which had been guiding his actions all afternoon - it was far too un-Kinney-like an emotion - but Brian didn’t stop himself from holding and tenderly stroking his lover’s hair and face while they lay together in bed, not saying anything and not moving, just being together. Eventually, Justin began to talk, finally able to process what had happened at the school. 

“It was Chris Hobbs,” Justin said in a hushed but steady voice. “He was the one who attacked me at the Prom. I saw him in the toilet at school today and I remembered. I remembered hearing someone call my name and when I turned around to look at whoever had called to me there was Chris with a baseball bat. Then I saw it coming towards me and that’s all.” 

Justin was quiet for several more moments before he added, in a much less steady voice now, “He said. . . Hobbs threatened to hurt you if I told anyone that it was him. He said he would hurt us both and that he would . . . He said he would kill you.”

-I’ll fucking kill HIM first. . . . I knew that we shouldn’t go to that school. . . . I knew better and I still let him go there and I let that monster hurt him again. . . . I fucking knew better. . . why the fuck didn’t the cops find the fucker and arrest him - wait, that’s a stupid question - the police bother with another gay bashing, yeah right. . . . Even if we did go to the cops now, I doubt they’d do anything to that goddamned fucking homophobic prick. . . Judging from that school - did you see all the BMWs and Audis and Benzs in that parking lot - this Hobbs guy has money, or at least his family does, which means he’ll be able to buy his way out of this no matter what we say. . . . It wouldn’t do any good to report the guy. . . I just want Justin to be safe. . . . I want him to be safe, here, with me. . . . . I won’t let that fucking monster near him again . . . 

Brian squeezed Justin tighter. “It’ll be okay, Sunshine. I’m here and I won’t let that bastard hurt you again. I’ve got you now.” 

Brian didn’t fall asleep for a long time after that. He sat there, holding Justin as the younger man slept, as if standing guard over the beautiful, talented, endearing young blond.


	19. The Taming of the Stud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shhhh. Don't let Brian know he's being tamed! TAG

Chapter 19 - The Taming of the Stud.

Debbie Novotny had already been on her feet for three hours this morning and she hadn’t had a break yet. She normally didn’t mind the early morning shift, but she’d worked swing shift last night as well - Deb had agreed to cover for Kiki who’s Trany Support Group had gone as a group to go see the Rocky Horror Picture Show last night. So, today Deb was more tired than usual and just a tad bit more cranky. But, when Justin and Brian came in the door, hand in hand no less, Debbie figured that that sweet kid’s sunshine smile, which always seemed to light up the room, went a long way towards lifting her spirits.

“Sunshine, sweetie,” the exuberant red headed surrogate mother of Liberty Avenue gushed. “How’re you doing this morning? Come and give me a big good morning hug, sweetie. I could really use a little sunshine to charge my engines this morning. I’m having a fuck of a time getting my ass in gear this morning.” 

Without giving the boy time to protest, Debbie wrapped Justin in a huge bear hug, squeezing until Justin grunted a little from the pressure to his already bruised ribs. The noise caused Deb to relent a little and when she pulled back, she finally noticed the ugly black, green and purple bruise on Justin’s cheek and jaw. 

“What the fuck happened to you, Sunshine.” Deb was instantly in mother bear protective mode.

“It’s a long story, Deb,” And, Justin started to explain about the school and Hobbs.

“Homophobic Jock,” Brian succinctly interrupted Justin’s dissertation.

“Figures!,” responded Debbie. “Fucking asshole! Sorry you had to go through that, Sunshine. Did you report the fucker to the cops?”

“Wouldn’t do any good. No witnesses and rich white kid versus fag,” Brian complained. “The asshole would get a slap on the wrist and then be back on the street even more pissed at Justin.” Brian was always the realist.

“You’re probably right, Brian, but it just pisses me off,” Debbie said with resignation. “So, Sunshine, what you need is a nice big hot breakfast. You need to keep your strength up to help you heal. You boys sit and I’m going to get you the Butch Bottom Special. That should tide you over for a bit.” And then Debbie was off to put in ‘Justin’s’ order.

“Don’t get too ‘butch’ now Sunshine,” Brian teased. “I like that bottom just the way it is.” And Brian goosed the lovely plump bottom in question to emphasize his point, causing Justin to giggle softly.

As they were sliding into their favorite booth, Brian pulled out a shiny new razor-type cell phone from his jacket pocket and slid it across the table to Justin.

“I had Cynthia pick it up for you yesterday,” Brian explained, trying to be nonchalant. “I might need to get a hold of you, sometime.”

Justin understood right away that the phone was not just meant to provide ease of communications, but also to show how worried Brian was after yesterday and how much the older man cared. Justin, of course, would never point out these facts to his partner. Brian didn’t do sentiment so he would only deny everything, get embarrassed or get angry, and Justin already knew better than to comment on any of the multitude of caring, tender things Brian did for him each day.

The new cell phone provided a nice segway into the topic that Justin had wanted to broach anyway, so, as soon as their food was served, the young man dove into the conversation with almost as much gusto as he showed towards the stack of pancakes on his plate. Brian, on the other hand, wasn’t as thrilled with the turn the conversation was taking. In fact, this was the one topic that Brian wanted to discuss the least.

“Are you going to tell me about the name thing voluntarily or do I have to resort to drastic measures,” Justin began, trying to maintain a light-hearted approach. “I could tickle the information out of you, if you choose to resist.”

Brian contemplated where to start for a few seconds and then decided to start in a slightly different fashion. “First, tell me what else you remember about Hobbs.” When he saw Justin about to contradict him, he hurried on, “You were talking in your sleep last night, Sunshine. You kept saying his name. I think . . Did you remember anything more?”

“A little,” Justin reluctantly admitted. “It happened at my Prom, right? That’s where Hobbs attacked me. I remembered about dancing with you and then we went down to the Jeep together. And, that’s where it happened. That’s where Hobbs was. It was you who tried to warn me - your voice I heard calling my name.” 

“Anything else about that night or. . . . or before?” Brian pressed.

“No. So, uh, my last name is Taylor? Not Kinney.”

“That night at the hospital there was a screw up,” Brian shrugged. “I didn’t think it was that big a deal so . . . . I just didn’t say anything.” 

Brian was not looking Justin in the eyes. Instead, the brunet man was looking down at the table and nervously playing with a sugar packet and his spoon. Justin thought that the man seemed, surprisingly, embarrassed - but that wasn’t like Brian. Was it? When the truth dawned on the young man, he was almost bowled over at the revelation.

“You like me using ‘Kinney’. That’s it, isn’t it?” Justin practically crowed. “You like having me use your name. That’s why you didn’t correct the hospital.”

Brian was still avoiding meeting Justin’s eyes, continuing to be fascinated by the now empty sugar packet. Justin decided, wisely, to back off but couldn’t get the huge grin off his face. 

“Well, that explains the name. Now, about my mother? That secretary said something about how my mother had been there asking about me last week. You told me that my family had kicked me out because I was gay. But, then, why would my mother be asking about me at my school?” Justin finished, waiting for some response from Brian.

“I don’t know, Justin. I never met your mother,” Brian explained. “I only ever spoke to your father.” Brian was more than reluctant to continue, but glancing over at the expectant look on Justin’s face, he knew he didn’t have a choice. “I didn’t want to have to tell you this. . . Fuck it. He’s just an ass, so what difference does it make what the creep said,” Brian backed off, knowing how much this was going to hurt his Sunshine and not wanting to have anything to do with inflicting that pain.

“Brian, I need to know. Please.”

“Fine. I called him the night you were attacked. He refused to come to the hospital. He said, ‘He’s NOT my son anymore’ and then hung up on me.” Brian blurted it all out but instantly regretted it when he saw the crushed look on the boy’s face. “I’m sorry, Justin.”

Justin sat for a long time, playing with his food now instead of shovelling it in like he would normally. In his mind, this explained to a large extent why Brian had been so reluctant to tell him about his past. He could see how hard it was on Brian to tell him these things that would undoubtedly hurt the man Brian cared about.

“I shouldn’t have taken you to that school,” Brian continued. “I figured that you would get hurt somehow. And you did. Not only with this shit about your dad, but also, this,” Brian reached across the table to lightly stroke the black and blue cheek. 

“This is not your fault, Brian,” Justin spoke up at once. “You’re not responsible for my dad being an asshole or Hobbs being a violent homophobic prick. Brian, look at me. You. Are. NOT. Responsible for this. 

-Like fuck I’m not. I knew that monster was likely to be at the school. I knew it was possible And, still, I let this happen. . . . He doesn’t have anyone but me right now and I fucking let him get hurt again. . . Big surprise - Kinney fucks up again. . . . God that bruise is fucking huge. I”m surprised he’s able to chew with that. . . . Then again, we are talking about the human eating machine, here. . . I really want to beat the shit out of both Hobbs and Craig Taylor, right now. . . . If I hadn’t fucking danced with him at the goddamned hetero-hop in the first place, none of this would be happening right now. . . . Time’s up, Kinney. You have to come clean and tell him everything. . . . I’m so fucked.

“Justin. There’s more,” Brian started. “I have to tell you the rest about that night. . . .”

“Goooooood morning, ladies. Everyone bright eyed and bushy-tailed this morning?” Emmett chimed as he slid into the booth next to Justin, oblivious to the serious countenances of both his friends. Then, the ebullient queen finally noticed the bruising on Justin’s face and went immediately into concerned mode. “Baby, what happened to you,” Emmett said while eyeing Brian suspiciously.

“Homophobic high school jock,” Brian explained once again, interrupting Justin before he’d even said a single word.

“Say no more, Honey. We’ve ALL been there. No broken bones or stitches? Good. Well, thank the stars for that,” Em went on. “So, what else is new?”

The three men sat and talked for a while after that. Emmett instinctively took on the role of mediator and rapidly steered the conversation towards the gossip on the street, who he’d seen at the club last night, and, inevitably, who he’d taken home last night, going into graphic details about his date’s performance. Em was only halfway through his story, however, when a tall, dark-haired, twenty-something man, a bit on the skinny side and dressed in a mesh tank top and skin tight blue jeans walked up to their table with an inviting look, laid his hand on Brian’s shoulder, giving it a seductive little squeeze, and bent to whisper in the older man’s ear. The resulting leer on Brian’s face told anyone who was interested what the man’s suggestion had been. 

Justin, who just happened to be holding his knife at that moment, pointed the implement at the presumptuous twink and in a loud, firm voice, said, “He’s NOT interested. Get lost!”

Brian looked over at Justin in amazement. No one had EVER done anything like that to him in his life. He actually, literally, didn’t know what to say at that moment.

“I think he should get to decide that for himself,” the snotty little twink opined.

“Not any more he doesn’t. So, FUCK OFF.” Justin repeated, emphasizing each word with a jab of the knife in the twink’s direction. 

The ferocious young blond was so obviously serious that the twink slinked off without waiting for any further instructions, casting a disappointed look or two in Brian’s direction once he was far enough away for safety.

“What the FUCK, Justin,” Brian erupted. “When did you become my fucking social secretary? You DON’T get   
to dictate my life to me.”

“I know we haven’t yet finished our discussion about everything that went down in Portland, Brian,” Justin calmly replied to the fuming brunet. “But, I guess now is as good a time as any. “

Justin put down the knife he was still holding and pushed his plate away. He then folded his hands together on the table top and took a deep breath, fury in his eyes equalling that in Brian’s. He looked Brian directly in the eyes and very clearly meant every word he said next.

“I . Don’t. Like. To. Share. Brian. I told you this when we were in Portland. I’m not going to make you choose right this minute, but I’m NOT going to passively sit here and watch while you pick up tricks right in front of me, either.” 

Justin kept his voice low but there was menace in his tone, nonetheless. When he was done speaking, the imperious blond sat there, continuing to look Brian in the eyes, with an open, honest but uncompromising look on his beautiful face. Nobody said anything.

-Who the fuck does this little chicken think he is? . . . He doesn’t fucking own me just cause I’m letting him stay at my place. . . I NEVER agreed to stop tricking. . . . Well, except for that first week while he was recovering from the surgery. But, that was all. . . . It was worth it though, shit, that was one amazing fuck when we finally . . . . God he’s beautiful when he’s all angry like this. His fucking eyes are almost glowing. . . . That twink was pretty skinny, too - Not really my type. . . . So, what the fuck do I do now? . . . I’m so totally fucked.

Justin and Emmett watched as Brian abruptly stood up and walked out of the Diner, not saying another word to anyone.

“Baby,” Em asked as soon as he’d recovered from his utter astonishment. “I was just wondering if those slacks are regular off-the-rack clothing or if you had to get them custom tailored.”

“Huh?” Justin was caught off guard by Em’s question. “Um, I guess they’re just regular - off the rack. Why?”

“Cause, Baby, with balls as big as yours, I’ve got no idea how you can get em in such tight jeans!” Emmett spat out, breaking into uproarious laughter. “Seriously, Justin. I NEVER thought I would see this day. You’ve made that man break just about every single rule he ever had.” Emmett continued, ticking each rule off on his fingers as he went, ”Brian doesn’t do relationships, Brian doesn’t do boyfriends, Brian doesn’t even let anyone stay the night, let alone move in with him, Brian never fucks anyone twice, and, if I’m not mistaken, he’s on the verge of breaking his most sacred rule of all - Brian does NOT do monogamy. Honey, it looks like   
the Stud of Liberty Avenue has finally been tamed!”

Justin had been laughing along with Emmett’s recitation the whole time, a knowing look in his eyes and a small, smug smile on his lips. “Do me a favor, Em,” Justin finally speaks up. “Don’t tell Brian that, okay.”

Justin then shoved Emmett over and stood up. “Gotta get to work.”

“Good luck at work, Baby. I hope Brian isn’t too pissed at you.” 

“He won’t be. At least, he won’t be after I let him fuck me over his desk before the morning staff meeting,” Justin added with a mischievous grin. “Later, Em.” 

++++++++++++++++++++++

“So, this is Liberty Avenue,” Jennifer Taylor commented to Daphne as the two women stood on a street corner taking in the sights of the ‘alternative’ neighborhood. 

“What’s the plan?” Daphne asked, not as phazed by the local atmosphere as the older woman.

“I don’t really know. I guess we just hang out and keep our eyes open,” Jennifer offered. “Maybe we could show Justin’s picture around. I know coming here is a long shot, but you said you saw him down here at the Pride Parade and this is, according to the internet, the ‘center of gay life in Pittsburgh’. I don’t know where else to start.”

“Well, I guess it’s worth a try,” Daphne agreed as the two started walking down the street.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Carter picked up his cell and dialed the number Craig Taylor had given him for important, private calls. He was impressed that Craig answered on the second ring. The man was obviously waiting for Carter’s call.

“I saw your wife, Jennifer and your kid’s school chum, I think her name is Daphne, on Liberty Avenue this afternoon.” Carter dove right in. “Have you made your decision yet? You’re running out of time.”

“Fuck! Fine. Do it. Just get him the hell out of the city.” Craig’s voice came loudly through the cell phone.

“You said you had a place we could use?” 

“Yeah. My folks have an old hunting cabin in the Appalachians up north, near Willimasport. What about the other kid?

“Hobbs? Yeah, he’s on board. I told him to look at it like a summer job,” Carter cackled out his amusement at the situation. “He’s a bit of a hot head, though. You sure about him?”

“He’ll be fine,” Craig said. “First of all, he hates fags even more than I do. And second, if he doesn’t help us out, he knows I’ll turn him into the cops.”

“Whatever you say, Boss”

“When’s this going to happen? This has to be done soon.”

“I kinda have to play it by ear. I need to get the kid alone, and that won’t be easy - he’s practically joined at the hip with Kinney these days. But, I already have some ideas how to work it. Maybe.” Carter said thoughtfully. “How about tomorrow morning? 8:00 am sound good to you?”


	20. Kisses and Kidnappings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serious Smut Warning. Enjoy! TAG

Chapter 20 - Kisses and Kidnappings.

This was getting to be a regular morning occurrence and Brian thought it was one he was definitely in favor of. He reached over to the far side of the bed and switched off the noisy alarm clock, then rolled back to enjoy the much more pleasant wake up call being administered by a hot little blond fireball who was currently doing things to his dick that Brian had previously thought were physically impossible. 

“Mmmmmmm, Justin,” Brian moaned out. “You are a fucking natural at this, you know that, don’t you?”

The only response to this compliment was a throaty chuckle from somewhere under the bedcovers. Those were the last coherent words Brian was capable of for quite some time. It wasn’t until several minutes later, when a messy blond mop of hair popped up from under the duvet, Justin smugly wiping his mouth with the back of one hand as he emerged, and then snuggling down into the crook of Brian’s arm, that the brunet was even able to think comprehensibly, and even then he still wasn’t able to form actual words. 

-How is it that he always smells so good? . . . We’ve been fucking all night long, we’re both covered in dried sweat and cum, and the little fucker still smells so damn appetizing. . . Shit, I love waking up every morning with the feeling of his gorgeous pouty lips wrapped around my cock. . . I wonder how he manages to always wake up right before the alarm goes off . . . He’s so goddamned warm all the time. . . . Fuck, he’s still so hard. And he’s got such a fucking beautiful cock. . . Maybe I’ll let him top me tonight - I bet that thick cock of his would feel fucking fantastic. . . . What the fuck? I didn’t just think about letting this little twink top me, did I? Where the fuck did that come from? I haven’t let ANYONE top me in forever. . . . Still, it might not be bad. . . . Shit, I’m really, really fucked. 

Brian shot out of bed at that moment, reacting to the rush of mushy, sentimental crap that had somehow found its way into his brain by pulling Justin up out of the bed, throwing the young man over his shoulder in a ‘fireman’s carry’, slapping the adorable perfect ass a couple of times and carrying the giggling, squirming, protesting twink into the shower. 

Brian deposited the still squealing Justin on his feet in the shower and turned on the water, adjusting it to the temperature he knew the twink liked best. Then, he pulled the younger man to him, wrapping his arms around the slender, pliant body and crushing Justin to his chest, unable to get enough of feeling this man’s skin against his own. Justin tilted his chin upwards allowing the coral pink lips to mindlessly find and lock onto the deep raspberry lips of his lover, each tasting and biting and licking at the other, communicating their uncontrollable and insatiable mutual desire. 

Brian was pleasantly surprised at how hard he was again already, even after that incredible blow job that he thought should have sapped him of all bodily fluids for the rest of the day. He mashed his throbbing erection against Justin’s firm belly, feeling the hard hot cock of the smaller man rubbing against his hip. Justin still hadn’t got off yet this morning and Brian could tell by the increasingly frantic movements that his boy was achingly ready. 

Brian turned Justin’s shoulders away from him and lustily shoved the younger man’s body against the glass wall of the shower enclosure. He secured both of the pale slender wrists in one large tanned hand and pinned them together to the wall above Justin’s head, then let his other hand roam, touching and caressing the warm ivory skin of the boy’s arms, shoulders, back and side, eventually coming to rest on the bewitching round butt cheek that he loved to knead and massage and grope. Brian indulged his need to touch and stroke that perfect ass, meanwhile biting and sucking at Justin’s neck like some modern day love-sick vampire.

When Justin’s bucking and wriggling hips began to pick up their tempo, Brian reached for a conveniently at-hand condom, stashed in what in any other shower would be the soap dish, tore it open with his teeth and put it on his cock with a clever one-handed maneuver. Brian then filled his palm with liquid soap from the wall dispenser and quickly slavered the slippery liquid over his sheathed cock and Justin’s crack. 

“I’m not going to go easy on you this time, Sunshine,” Brian whispered into the delicate shell-like ear while holding his ready dick at the entrance to the boy’s sweet hot little pucker, just barely touching the inviting outer folds of skin. “I can tell you need it hard and fast. That’s what you want, isn’t it. Tell me what you want Sunshine. Tell me!”

“Fuck me, Brian. . . Hard,” Justin panted out, his aching need evident in his pleading voice. “I want it hard. Now, Brian. Fuck me now.”

Brian released his hold on Justin’s wrists so he could use his hand to restrain the youth’s wildly thrusting and writhing hips. Then, in one swift ramming motion, without any other preparation, Brian slammed his cock deep into the warm, welcoming depths of Justin’s perfect hot ass. The boy groaned loudly, his body involuntarily flinching from the forceful, almost violent entry. But, as Brian pulled out and then thrust in again as deeply as he could, he angled his cock so it would sweep over the younger man’s prostate with each and every motion, stimulating the enraptured young man over and over again until, without either of them touching Justin’s hard throbbing erection, Justin felt his orgasm washing over him from his balls outward till every nerve ending in his body was on fire. The blissful moans and spasms of the young man in his arms, brought Brian rapidly to the brink as well, and he joyfully let his own release course through him, loving each pulse as his cum repeatedly shot out to fill the condom embedded in that tight hot perfect ass. 

Both men immediately slumped against the cum splattered shower wall, Brian using his hands braced on each side of Justin’s body to hold the smaller man up while he worked to regain the ability to stand on his own. As their breathing gradually returned to normal, Brian carefully pulled out and disposed of the brimming condom, then once again wrapped his arms tightly around the young body that seemed to fit against his so perfectly. 

The older man marvelled at the fact that he never seemed to get enough of this particular nubile young blond, something that he had never felt before with other men. But with sudden insight, Brian realized that Justin was so much more than any other man he’d ever been with - this man was somehow special, beyond any words Brian had to describe him. The realization caused him to squeeze Justin even tighter, eliciting a surprised grunt from the unwary youth, who responded by holding Brian tighter as well. 

Brian realized they had been standing like that, arms and bodies entwined, for a very long time when the hot water in the shower began to run out. Brian kissed Justin deeply once more and allowed himself the pleasure of cupping those perfectly round and kneadable ass cheeks one more time, before forcing himself to move away from the temptation that was Justin. He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, handing a towel to his remarkable young lover and then drying himself off quickly. 

“We’re already running a bit late this morning, Sunshine. Why don’t I go pick up breakfast for us at the Diner while you’re getting ready.” Brian suggested, unable to resist leaving another few kisses on the smooth shoulders and neck of the luscious blond who was trying to ignore him so he could finish shaving.

“Fabulous idea, Brian.” Justin agreed. “Oh. Tell Deb that I want extra bacon this morning, please. I’m starving.”

“I would think you’d already had plenty of protein this morning,” Brian teased as he smacked Justin lightly on the rear and then headed to the bedroom to dress.

Justin was almost finished dressing himself about twenty minutes later when he heard his brand new cell phone ringing. Thinking it was probably Brian, since as far as he knew nobody else had this number yet, he happily skipped over to where the phone was lying on the dresser. He glanced at the caller I.D. and was surprised that he didn’t recognize the number, but flipped it open and answered the call anyway.

“Hello.”

“Hello. This is Marcus from Allegheny General Hospital, to whom am I speaking?” said the voice on the other end of the line.

“This is Justin Kinney. May I ask why you’re calling?”

“Sir, we have a Brian Kinney here in the ER. He was involved in an accident this morning and was brought here for medical attention. He asked us to call you,” the voice went on.

“Oh shit. Brian. Is he okay?” Justin could feel his heart skipping beats as it pounded along in fear that Brian had been badly hurt.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I’m just an orderly and I don’t have that information for you. I was just told to call you and ask that you come down here as soon as possible.”

“I’m on my way,” Justin shouted into the phone, hanging up and dashing through the loft to find his jacket and the car keys. 

Justin raced down the stairs, still juggling his phone and keys while trying to get his jacket on. He hit the building entry doors at a dead run and was out on the sidewalk within seconds, trying to remember where Brian had parked the car last night. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t even see the man wearing the ragged black leather jacket standing behind him, next to the building’s entrance. So Justin was taken completely by surprise when the leather clad man quickly came up behind him, grabbed his arms and twisted them roughly behind his body then dragged him towards the large black sedan with dark tinted windows parked in front of the building. When Justin and his attacker neared the car, the rear door swung open and the man behind him shoved Justin roughly inside, slamming the car door behind him and jumping in the front passenger seat while the car was already pulling away from the curb. 

++++++++++++++++++

Brian was only a few blocks from home, his hands full of breakfast fixings for Justin and coffees for them both. He caught himself smiling again, thinking about this morning’s wake up call and shower and laughed out loud thinking about the playful enticing blond waiting for him only minutes away. He was thinking that since they were already late, maybe it wouldn’t make much difference if they were a little later even - breakfast could wait a bit while they had a little more playtime, couldn’t it? He picked up his pace a little at that thought, eager to get back to his very own ray of Sunshine and found, to his surprise, he was whistling as he hurried home.

As he neared the loft, Brian noticed a rather expensive looking car parked in the alleyway across the street from his building. The sleek silver Jaguar stood out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood and immediately drew Brian’s attention. The driver, who was sitting in the car staring at something in the distance, seemed familiar in some way to Brian - the man was fifty-ish with regular, attractive features, a square cut jaw and had bright blond hair. That shock of sunshiney blond instantly brought to mind Brian’s very own little blond and then the resemblance clicked. The man in the car looked a lot like a much older, worn-out version of Justin. ‘Craig Taylor’ Brian wondered?

Brian’s contemplation of the Jaguar and its driver was interrupted by a small stifled yelp coming from across the street and a flurry of movement in front of his building. Brian looked over to see what the disturbance was about and thought he saw a blond head getting into a black sedan. Disregarding the oncoming traffic, Brian ran across the street but was too late to stop the car, which had pulled away from the curb, squealing tires leaving skid marks from the speed at which the car pealed out. Brian noted as the sedan pulled away, that the car’s rear license plate had been removed.

“What the fuck,” Brian exclaimed, throwing the coffee he held into the gutter and pulling out his cell phone. 

Brian quickly speed dialed Justin’s new cell phone number, wondering why Justin would be getting into that car. He was worried that there was something wrong going on here but didn’t quite know what. As the call finally went through, he spun around and looked at the sidewalk next to building’s entrance - there on the ground was a ringing cell phone, It’s display screen cracked and, next to the phone, Justin’s keyring with the distinctive artist’s palette fob. 

That’s when the Jaguar pulled out of the alley across the street and headed off in the same direction as the sedan, and Brian knew with certainty that Justin was in trouble and that Craig Taylor was somehow responsible.

+++++++++++++++


	21. Confronting Craig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having some computer issues - I struggled to get this posted and once I finally got it, I decided not to stress about the typos. Sorry, I'll get them later. TAG

Brian Kinney had been standing on the sidewalk in front of his loft for over an hour now. He’d told at least four different police officers and two detectives what he’d seen earlier when Justin had been taken. The police had taken the broken cell phone and keys as ‘evidence’, for whatever good that would do, Brian thought. And still, after an hour and counting, no one had done anything. Brian was barely restraining himself from punching out the latest bumbling idiot who was asking once again the same questions - the only thing holding him back was the thought that he wouldn’t be any help to Justin if he was locked up for attacking a police officer.

“Detective, please. I’ve told you already - and I’ve told all those other guys standing around over there too - you need to go talk to Craig Taylor. He’s Justin’s father. I’m pretty sure that was who I saw watching from across the street while this whole shit was happening.” Brian was trying again to get someone to DO something. “He drove off right after Justin was shoved in that car, like he’d been waiting for it or something. He was driving a silver Jaguar - there can’t be that many cars like that in the Pitts, for Christ sake. Can’t you at least check your fucking records and confirm that Taylor drives a Jag - if so, then he’s definitely your guy”

“Mr. Kinney, can you positively ID the guy you saw as Craig Taylor?” the detective asked.

“No, I can’t. As I already told your buddies over there, I’ve never actually met Craig Taylor.” Brian tried to explain again. “But, he looks just like Sunshine, only older and not as hot”

“Sunshine?” 

“Sorry, I meant Justin. It’s a nickname,” Brian mumbled, embarrassed that he’d been caught using a stupid pet name. 

“Okay. Now what’s this about the kid being disabled or something?” the detective asked in a totally condescending manner.

“He’s not fucking disabled,” Kinney shouted. “He was ATTACKED less than a month ago and lost his memory. He isn’t a fucking cripple or something. He just can’t remember some stuff that happened before the attack - which, by the way, your wonderful police force hasn’t done anything about.” 

After another ten minutes of questioning along the same lines, Brian gave up. Throwing his hands up in the air, he turned on his heel and walked away from the ‘Keystone Kops’, ignoring their admonitions to come back because they still had some questions. Brian was through wasting time.

“Ted, do you still have Justin’s old driver’s license,” Brian was already on the phone, relieved to finally feel that he was doing something productive. “Great. Give me his old home address. Got it. Thanks. Put me through to Cynthia.”

A half hour later, Brian was back in the ‘burbs for the second time this week, pulling up to an elegant looking ranch style house on a huge lot, only a half mile from the country club. Brian knew that the boy had probably come from the country club set, but actually seeing this place really shook him. He and Justin really did come from two different worlds, he thought, remembering the series of falling down rentals where he’d grown up. 

-Deep breath, Kinney. . . Remember, this guy’s just as much an asshole as your dad was, just with more money to hide behind. . . I know he is involved somehow and if the cops won’t do anything, then I will.

Brian strode to the front doors and rang the bell, mentally comparing the melodious chimes that rang out with the loud off-key buzzer he remembered as the doorbell in the last place he’d lived in with his parents. He was about to ring a second time, thinking maybe no one was home, and already trying to figure out what he would do in that case, when he heard footsteps approaching from the inside. He sighed loudly when the door finally began to open, pulling his shoulders back and preparing himself to confront Justin’s father.

“May I help you,” said a petit, elegantly dressed blonde woman, holding the door ajar.

“I hope so,” Brian pulled out the Kinney charm thinking it was good for more than just winning over clients. “I’m looking for Craig Taylor. Do I have the correct residence?”  
“Why, yes, you do, but I’m afraid my husband isn’t home right at the moment,” the polite blonde responded. “Is there anything I can help you with?” 

Brian thought briefly about whether or not he should confront this woman, apparently Craig’s wife, about Justin’s kidnapping. He thought better about it though - if he was wrong about Craig being involved, he didn’t want to be throwing around accusations. He had to see Craig Taylor and confirm that the man he’d seen was Justin’s father before he did that.  
“Um, no. Thank you, but I really need to talk to Craig personally.” Kinney charm oozing out on full now. “Could you tell me where I could find him this morning. My business is rather urgent, I’m afraid.”

“Of course. You should be able to find him at his store. Please come in and I’ll write the address and phone number down for you,” the trusting woman replied, sweeping Brian into the entryway and then walking a short distance away to a small secretary’s desk against the nearby wall. 

Brian’s attention was immediately drawn to an array of framed family photos displayed on a foyer table set against the wall directly across from the door. The central photo of the grouping was a large 8x10 photo of Justin, smiling his best killer smile, looking happy and content. Brian could feel his heart rate speeding up just looking at that beautiful smile. He reached out and traced the lines of the familiar face with one finger, desperately wishing he could touch the real thing right now. 

“That’s my son, Justin,” came the woman’s voice from behind him. 

Brian cleared the sudden lump in his throat before replying. “He’s a handsome young man.”

“Yes. He is,” said the woman with obvious pride and love evident in her tone. “He’s an incredibly talented artist too. He drew this, in fact,” she said, proudly pointing to a large framed piece hanging on a nearby wall. 

Brian moved closer to the piece, examining the charcoal drawing of the woman standing next to him with a young girl. As usual, Brian thought, Justin’s work was magnificent.  
“It’s absolutely beautiful,” Brian said truthfully. “Who is the girl?”

“That’s my daughter, Molly. Justin’s sister.” The woman seemed melancholy, staring at the drawing, but quickly shook it off and turned back to Brian, handing him a slip of paper. “Here’s the address and phone number for the store. If Craig isn’t there, his secretary should be able to tell you how to get a hold of him, Mr. . . .?”

“Kinney. Brian Kinney.”

“It’s lovely to meet you Mr. Kinney. I’m Jennifer Taylor,” she said, offering her hand to the charismatic man.

“Mrs. Taylor.” Brian accepted and shook the woman’s hand. “Thank you for this. I really do appreciate it.” 

“Goodbye Mr. Kinney.” Brian stepped out and nodded as Jennifer closed the door behind him.

Brian slipped the small piece of paper in his jacket pocket as he walked back towards his car, reflecting on the woman he’d just met as he went. Jennifer Taylor wasn’t at all what he’d expected. From the limited and unpleasant contact he’d had with her husband, Brian had just assumed that Justin’s entire family were a bunch of homophobic assholes. Jennifer didn’t seem so bad though. She obviously loved her son and was proud of his talent. The subject of homosexuality hadn’t come up, of course, but she didn’t seem the type to cast off her son just because of his sexuality. Brian thought, once he’d recovered Justin, it might be worth it to get to know Jennifer Taylor a little better. 

That was assuming, of course, that Justin was okay. Brian shook his head, trying to dispel the negative thoughts. He wasn’t giving up on Justin. No fucking way.

Taylor Electronics’ main store was a typical ‘big box’ type store right of the interstate located in the middle of your average suburban strip mall. It was the type of business that just reinforced Brian’s disdain for the ‘burbs. Brian parked his car in the acres-wide parking lot and squared his shoulders, again preparing for the expected confrontation. As he walked towards the store entrance, he noted a silver Jaguar parked two spaces down from the doors.

Entering the store through the automatic sliding doors, Kinney walked up to the ‘customer service’ desk and asked to see Mr. Taylor. He was directed to the rear of the store, and told to go right on through the door marked ‘Employees Only’. Behind that door, he found a small office set up with a receptionist desk on the right side of the entryway. Brian approached the attractive redhead sitting behind the desk who was busy reading a paperback novel. He was just about to announce himself and ask to see Mr. Taylor, when a loud, demanding voice echoed out from one of the rear offices, distracting his attention along with that of the receptionist.

“Connie, get me the April invoices, damn it,” the order was accompanied by the appearance of the man behind the voice, as Craig Taylor strode through his office door bound for the brazen redhead, who rolled her eyes in Brian’s direction as she reluctantly put down her book and rose to comply with her boss’ directive. 

Brian recognized the man right off as the driver of the Jaguar from this morning. Craig recognized Brian Kinney, from the PI’s surveillance photos, at the exact same time. Brian could see the recognition in Taylor’s eyes and started to move towards the man. Taylor turned his back, pretending he hadn’t noticed the tall, handsome brunet, and started back towards his office. Brian arrived just as the office door was swinging closed and he angrily shoved it back against the wall as he barged into the spartanly decorated office space.   
“What the fuck are you doing?” Craig, who was standing behind his cluttered desk, turned to confront the intruder. “Whoever the hell you are, get out of my office.”

“You know who I am, Craig,” Brian said, his voice dripping with fury, not even slowing down as stomped around the side of Craig’s desk, grabbed the older man by his shirt, and pushed him violently back against the wall. “Where the fuck is Justin.”

“I don’t know what the hell you mean,” Craig roared back at the taller man who had him pinned to the wall. “Get your fucking hands off of me before I call the police.”

“Great. Please, by all means, call the cops,” Brian said with a sneer, his face only millimeters away from Craig’s. “I’ve been trying to get them over here all morning. See, I saw you this morning, Craig. I know you had something to do with Justin going missing. Now, tell me where the fuck he is before I fucking smash your goddamned homophobic head in.” 

“I have no idea where Justin is,” Craig replied, his eyes sliding downwards and to the left, unable to continue looking directly at Brian. “The brat ran away a month ago and we haven’t heard from him since.”

“You and I both fucking know that isn’t true, Craig. Justin didn’t run away. You fucking abandoned him after he’d been attacked the night of his prom. You refused to come to the hospital to see him even. You goddamned piece of shit. Now, tell me, Where. Is. He.” Kinney thundered at Craig, emphasizing each of his final words by thumping the captive man back against the wall. 

“I told you, I don’t know where the goddamned little faggot is, and frankly I couldn’t give a damn even if I did.” Craig’s face had turned a deep, unhealthy red and Brian could see a large blood vessel in his left temple pulsing as the man struggled to remove Brian’s hands from his shirt. “Now, get your fucking faggot hands off me and get out of my office.”

Brian realized that he wasn’t going to get anything out of Craig like this. The fucker knew something - Brian was sure he was lying through his fucking teeth. But, he didn’t have time for this. He had to get to Justin and this wasn’t helping right now. Shoving the older man back against the wall with all the force he could muster, Brian released the crumpled fabric of Taylor’s shirt and took one step backward, still regarding the older man with evident scorn.

“Fuck this, Taylor. I know you’re lying. We’ll let the cops handle this. But, if Justin is hurt, in any fucking way, I’ll be back for you.” Brian didn’t bother to wait for a reply. 

Brian spun around and strode out of the office, through the store and back to his car, without pausing. When he got back in his car, Kinney dug through his pocket and pulled out a business card one of the detectives from this morning had given him. He noted the precinct address from the bottom of the card, tossed it aside and started the Jeep, determined to try one more time to get the cops to question Craig Taylor.

Brian had to drive all the way back downtown to get to the police station that was listed on the detective’s card. He was getting a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach thinking about how much time had gone by since he’d seen Justin getting into that black sedan. This was taking just too fucking long and getting him nowhere so far, but he didn’t know what else to do.

He asked at the police station for the detective whose name had been on the card and was told to take a seat. A few minutes later a familiar looking older, balding man with a definite paunch, came striding towards Brian from the back of the station house. As the man neared, Brian recognized the detective that had questioned him at the hospital the night Justin had been attacked. He stood up to greet the man, meeting him halfway across the waiting area.

“Mr. Kinney? Carl Horvath. I’ve been assigned to the case you’re asking about. How can I help you,” the detective started, shaking Brian’s hand amiably.

“Aren’t you the cop that I talked to at the hospital the night Justin was attacked - at the Fairmont?” Brian asked, just to make sure.

“Oh yeah. I remember you now. You’re the boyfriend, right?” Horvath stated. “Are you here about that matter - if so, I’m afraid I don’t have anything more to tell you. That case has been shelved for the time being. My sergeant said you were here about this alleged kidnapping thing, though.”

“I am. Justin, the boy who was attacked that night is the same one who was kidnapped this morning,” Brian began to explain, then paused as the idea that the two incidents might be related popped into his brain. He didn’t have time to analyze that idea, though, so he plowed on. “Detective, I think I know who’s responsible for Justin’s disappearance - his father, Craig Taylor.”

Horvath escorted Brian back to his desk and listened while he retold his story again. This time though, Brian was able to absolutely confirm that it was Craig Taylor who had been watching the abduction from the alley across the street. Horvath took notes as Brian spoke, thankfully, Brian thought, not interrupting. Brian ended his tale with a renewed plea that someone head out to arrest Taylor and pressure him to find out Justin’s whereabouts.

“Hold on, son,” Horvath cautioned. “We don’t have enough here to arrest the man, yet. I’ll admit it does seem kinda suspect, though. I will send some officers out to question the guy. In the meantime, I’ve got people out canvassing the neighborhood to find out if anyone else saw anything helpful and we’ve sent the kid’s cell phone down to forensics - I thought there might be something helpful in the phone memory.” Horvath stood as he said this, indicating to Kinney that the interview was over. “You should be back at your house, Mr. Kinney. You need to be there just in case your partner shows up or calls.”

“Fuck that,” Brian said under his breath - If the police weren’t going to take any real action, then he would do it himself.


	22. Detective Kinney On The Case.

Chapter 22 - Detective Kinney On The Case.

Brian was worried that these trips to the burbs were becoming far too frequent. He’d been sitting in the parking lot at this damn strip mall for hours now and all he’d seen was the continual parade of suburban clones, housewives, corporate executives, well-dressed teens, all coming and going while being good little consumers - thank god for them, he thought, knowing they were the primary target for his business as an advertising exec. 

Unfortunately, watching these ‘sheep’ all day wasn’t really all that entertaining and Brian was bored out of his mind.

He wasn’t leaving though. He’d been watching Craig Taylor all afternoon - as soon as he realized that the cops weren’t going to do anything to the fucker, Brian decided to do some detective work of his own. Since Craig Taylor was the only link he had to what happened to Justin, it was the logical step to watch him and see if he would lead to something bigger. At least that was what Brian thought when he’d left Horvath at the downtown police station. After sitting here all day, he wasn’t sure that this had been the brilliant idea it had originally appeared. 

Horvath had been true to his word, to an extent - Brian had seen the two uniformed police officers drive up about a half hour after he’d arrived. They’d spent almost an hour inside the store, questioning Taylor, he assumed. But, when they left, they weren’t escorting Taylor away in handcuffs, so Brian stayed where he was. 

About 3:00 pm, Brian had followed Taylor and the little red receptionist to a sleazy freeway motel - waiting while the two engaged in a little ‘afternoon delight’, obviously, although Brian tried hard not to think about the particulars of what they were doing for fear he’d never be able to maintain an erection again afterwards. Even considering the skewed taste of most hetero assholes, though, Brian couldn’t see what Taylor saw in the skanky redhead when he had a much more attractive blonde wife at home. Oh well, there was no accounting for taste - especially where heteros were concerned. 

Since Taylor’s little outing earlier, he hadn’t left the damn electronics store. Brian didn’t think the guy looked like the diligent business owner type, so he couldn’t figure out why the guy was still here, ostensibly working, well after 7:00 pm. Brian was stiff from sitting all day, plus he hadn’t eaten anything - he’d never gotten around to that breakfast he’d planned with Justin - and he was thinking about taking an hour or so off to go get some dinner, when he finally saw something interesting and decided to stay put.

A nondescript American-make car had just parked in front of the store, and a fairly tall, well-built teen had struggled his way out of the driver’s seat. As the boy stood, Brian noted that the reason he’d seemed to struggle getting up was because he had one of those bulky, adjustable, plastic cast contraptions on his right leg. But, what Brian found to be particularly interesting about this boy was that he recognized him - it was the boy who had attacked Justin in the parking garage of the Fairmont, Chris Hobbs. 

-What the fuck is that sleazewad doing here? . . . It’s a little late for a trip to the mall to pick up the latest CD . . . . The way he’s looking around him - like he doesn’t want to be seen - he’s fucking up to something. . . .

Brian watched as Hobbs approached the entrance to the store. As soon as the teen was inside, he hopped out of the Jeep, ran to the front of the building, pressing his body against the concrete wall while he craned his neck around to watch Hobbs’ movement through the plate glass window, and surreptitiously observed the boy as he hesitantly limped around near the line of cash registers. Within minutes after Hobbs made a brief comment to an employee at one of the registers, Brian was dumbfounded to see Craig Taylor come out of the back of the store, greet Hobbs, albeit unenthusiastically, and hand him a large, soft-sided leather briefcase. The two men shook hands and then Hobbs turned to leave the store. Brian quickly turned his back, pretending to be lighting a cigarette so he wouldn’t be recognized as Hobbs passed within ten feet of him.

This was definitely not right, thought Brian. Taylor and the kid who’d attacked his son, together and acting all friendly - what the fuck was that all about? Brian made a split decision to follow Hobbs and see where the kid was going - Taylor didn’t seem to be going anywhere, maybe because the visit from the cops had put him on alert - but Brian was curious to see where the teen was headed and perhaps he could even find out what was in the briefcase. So, as soon as Hobbs was in his own car, Brian raced to the Jeep and pulled into the line of traffic at the stop light a few cars behind Chris Hobbs.

By just after 10:00 pm, Brian found himself somewhere in the middle of nowhere, heading east on Interstate 80, driving through heavily forested rolling hills. To Brian Kinney, the ultimate city-boy, this was even worse than being in the damn suburbs. Before long, Hobbs took the turnoff for I390 heading north towards Williamsport, Kinney following in his wake at a respectful distance. It wasn’t too long though before Hobbs took another turnoff, onto a two-laned highway heading northwest. Brian followed, noting the sign for the ‘Sproul State Forest’ as he turned. He slowed down to let Hobbs get a larger lead on him at this point, since there was no other traffic on this deserted road and the teen was more likely to notice Kinney following him out here in the boonies.

The road they were driving on became even narrower and wound through the trees and around rocky outcrops, forcing Brian to slow his speed drastically after only a few miles. There were numerous dirt tracks leading off the main road, none of which had street names, only forest service road numbers, and only a few, mostly uninhabited, cabins around. When the pavement ran out and turned into a rutted dirt track, and Hobbs’ car was no longer anywhere to be seen, Brian pounded his fist against the steering wheel, angry at himself for losing the damn kid. He decided to turn back and recover his trail, trying to figure out where Hobbs had gone. 

When Brian was almost all the way back to the Interstate, still without any clue where the Hobbs kid had disappeared to, he pulled off the road and took out his cell phone. Time to call in the experts, he thought. 

“Good evening, Theodore,” Brian said into the phone when the familiar voice came on the other end of the line. “I need my little computer genius’ help, so get your butt over to your laptop.” 

Brian gave Ted the lowdown on where he was at and why. He asked Ted to get online and see if he could somehow figure out where to look next - Brian thought maybe Ted could look at online maps to see if there was a town nearby or some other possible destination that might have drawn Hobbs out here to the middle of a forest in the middle of the night. Ted, however, had a much better idea. He quickly pulled up the property tax records for Clinton County and searched the records for the name Hobbs. When he had no luck with that search, he tried ‘Taylor’.

“Bingo, Brian!” Ted enthused. “I think I found something. There’s a property tax record under the name Taylor for some land and maybe a cabin or small house in Clinton County not too far away from where you are now. It’s under the name, Edward Taylor, not Craig, but there aren’t any other hits for either Taylor or Hobbs, so it’s worth a try.”

“Remind me to give you a raise when I get back, Theodore,” said Brian, hanging up as soon as his friend gave him the correct forest service road number and directions to the property. 

With the correct road number and adequate directions, Brian found the property fairly easily after that. As he drove by the deeply rutted driveway leading off the forest road, he noted with satisfaction the lights on inside the small, clapboard sided cabin. He drove on a ways down the road, until the cabin was hidden from sight by another twist in the road, then pulled his Jeep off the road and parked. Thinking to himself that he was so not dressed for a night of traipsing through bear shit in the woods, but determined not to give up, Brian pulled on his jacket and started walking back down the road towards the lonely cabin.

Brian trudged cross-country through the bracken and underbrush until he was about 100 meters from the cabin. He could see movement through the brightly lit windows but couldn’t really tell who was moving around or what the occupants were doing. He decided to park himself nearby, watch the place for a while and try to figure out a plan, before doing anything rash. Looking around, he finally settled on a slightly damp tree stump as being the best available seating, but silently cursed what the dirty, wet wood would do to his brand new Armani dress slacks, which he’d never had the time to change out of. Pulling his too-thin jacket around him tightly, Brian settled in to watch the cabin.

++++++++++++++++++

Saturday morning saw Jennifer and Daphne back on Liberty Avenue, sitting in a small coffee shop on the corner of Liberty and Fuller. Jennifer thought they would give it one more try to find Justin down here, even though their last trip hadn’t turned up anything. As the pleasant young barrista set their drinks down on the small cafe table, Jennifer pulled a copy of Justin’s yearbook photo out of her bag.

“Excuse me,” Jenn said before the young man could leave. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind looking at a photo I have of my son - he’s been missing for several weeks now - and tell me if you might have seen him around here. We think he might be living nearby.” She offered the photo to the man, even though he was already trying to back away. The woman looked like she was about to cry, though, so the barrista relented and took a look at the photo after all.

The young man in the photo looked kind of familiar to the barrista, but he wasn’t sure. He quickly waved his co-worker over, thinking maybe the other man would know better than he.

“Sorry, I don’t recognize him. But, I’m kinda new around here,” the first man said “Tony here has lived in the neighborhood a lot longer, though. Maybe he can help you. Tone - you ever seen this guy?”

“Oh yeah, I recognize this kid. He comes in here sometimes with Kinney,” Tony added helpfully. 

Jennifer and Daphne were thrilled - this was the first real clue they’d found that might lead them to Justin.

“Do you know where he lives or where we can find him?” Daphne interjected.

“I got no idea where the guy lives, babe. Sorry. But, since it’s Saturday, if he’s hanging out with Kinney you’ll probably find him at Woody’s tonight. Either there or at Babylon.” 

+++++++++++++++++++

It was fuicking cold out here, thought Brian Kinney, who had no experience with camping and therefore had no idea how much colder it got at night in the woods, even when the days were still relatively warm. He had only his thin suit jacket to keep him warm and hadn’t eaten in more than twenty-four hours. He was pissed off and exhausted and cold and he just wanted to get Justin and get out of here. He’d been pacing around his tree stump for quite a while now, trying to stay awake and keep warm in the process, but when he heard noise coming from up at the cabin, he quickly darted behind his stump and hunkered down out of sight. 

The cabin door opened revealing Chris Hobbs once again. The boy paused a moment on the front porch steps, stretched and yawned, then headed over to his car. Finally, thought Kinney, as Hobbs drove down the driveway and the car finally disappeared around the far bend. 

Brian edged up closer to the cabin, thinking that he could take this opportunity, with Hobbs gone, to look around and see what he could find in the Cabin. He didn’t know for sure if Justin was inside, but the fact that the property was apparently owned by that fucker Craig and that he’d watched Hobbs meeting with Craig right before the little asswipe had driven out here, made Brian hopeful that his Sunshine was inside. If so, Brian planned to get Justin and get out of here as fast as they could and he would call the cops later, once Justin was safe.

Brian silently crept up the porch stairs and reached for the door handle, happy to note that the door apparently wasn’t locked. He peeked through the window next to the door briefly and confirmed that there wasn’t anyone in sight inside. Then, as slowly as he could, Brian twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, wincing slightly at the unavoidable creaking noise from the rusty door hinges. But, since the creaking didn’t seem to bring anyone out to investigate, Brian slipped quietly in through the cabin door.

The room he was in was small. There was a tiny kitchenette set up in the corner on his right and a couch and small formica topped table with three chairs to the left. Directly in front of him, positioned in the very center of the cabin was a large stone fireplace, with smoldering embers still visible in the grate. The whole room couldn’t be more than twenty meters wide and ten meters long. There were two doors opening off this main room, one on each side of the fireplace. The one on the right side, Kinney noted, had a deadbolt lock on this side. If Justin was being kept here against his will, this was the obvious place to look.

Brian strode over to the right hand door, and flipped the deadbolt open, pushing the heavy, solid core door away from him. There was no light in the room - it had no windows - so Brian couldn’t immediately see anything inside other than that there was a full-sized bed shoved into the back right corner. As his eyes adjusted, he could see that there was no one in the bed, and he felt his heart sink, thinking he had been wrong and Justin wasn’t here after all.   
Brian was just about to turn around and head back out when he detected movement out of the corner of his eye and heard a suppressed moan from the darkness in the corner between the bed and the wall. Brian skirted the end of the bed, which took up almost all the floor space in the crackerbox sized room, and bent over to see into the small space between the bed and a rickety nightstand. There was definitely something there.   
He sidled closer and heard the whimpers and moans growing louder the closer he got. Brian’s heart was thumping hard against the inside of his ribcage. He closed in on the source of the noises and carefully pulled the nightstand away from the wall so he could see behind it. And there he was.

“Justin!” Brian said in a loud voice, which seemed to startle the boy, causing him to scoot back even further behind the shield of the small piece of furniture.

Brian picked up the nightstand and threw it across the room where it hit the wall and landed on its side on the end of the bed. Then he squatted down next to the scared boy and pulled the struggling, trembling young man into his arms. Whispering incoherent soothing words as he held and rocked his boy, Brian let his free hand stroke the silky blond locks, reassuring himself at the touch of his lover. At the sound of Brian’s calming voice and the feel of his familiar touch, Justin was beginning to calm down and had finally stopped whimpering, but Brian could still feel the slender shoulders shaking under his hands. 

“Come on, Justin,” Brian coaxed. “I need to get you out of here. Can you walk? We need to move. I don’t know when that fucker Hobbs will come back.” 

Brian tried to pull the smaller man up to his feet, walking backwards and urging him towards the door as he spoke. Justin was struggling against him, though, pulling back as if trying to return to his safe little corner. Brian could see the fear and panic in the young man’s eyes, which were staring over his right shoulder at something behind him. Brian released Justin’s hands, allowing the boy to sink back to the floor, and deliberately turned around.

The overweight, middle-aged, balding man standing in the doorway glaring at him was chuckling under his breath at the surprise on Kinney’s face. He figured in a fair fight, Kinney could probably take him - for a fag he looked pretty strong and was obviously in much better shape. That’s why Carter was mentally patting himself on the back for remembering to bring along his gun, which he was currently pointing at the glowering handsome brunet man. Carter calmly reached for the door, pulling it closed, and turned the deadbolt lock, sealing the two men in the small room without a single word being said.


	23. Little Cabin in the Woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I haven't posted in a few days - I was without good computer service while off visiting my Mom & Step-Dad in Arizona. But, I'm back and here's another chapter for you. Please leave a comment or kudos if you like. TAG

Chapter 23 - Little Cabin in the Woods.

Brian was delighted to have Justin back in his arms. Okay, it really sucked that they were locked up here in this ridiculously secluded cabin, being held at gunpoint by some overweight thug, a lunatic homophobic teenager and his lover’s insane father. But, having Justin next to him, knowing he was safe, at least for the moment, was such relief to him after the insecurity of the past twenty four hours that he couldn’t help but be a little happy. Brian pulled the smaller man even closer to him, stroking the bright golden hair, the soft skin of Justin’s cheek and neck and just let himself feel the surge of joy each touch brought to him. 

He hadn’t just been sitting here idly petting his pretty blond companion, though. The entire time they’d been huddled here on this dirty mattress that smelled faintly of piss, Brian had been busy trying to plan how to escape. He really hadn’t gotten very far on that though. The first thing he did was to try his cell phone - which, of course, had absolutely no signal clear out here in the deep, dark forest. He’d also tried throwing himself against the door a couple times, which got him nothing other than a bruised shoulder - the door was solid and wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Since there were no windows or any other way out of this room, that didn’t leave many options. All Brian could think to do for the time being was wait, keep his eyes open and be prepared if an opportunity presented itself. 

The only real cause for immediate anxiety right now, Brian thought, was that Justin still hadn’t said anything. He’d looked the boy over as well as he could in the lightless room. Justin didn’t appear to be badly hurt - Brian thought his ribs, which still weren’t healed from the last run in with Chris Hobbs, might have been re-bruised, and there were a few additional cuts on Justin’s face and arms - but overall he seemed okay. 

But the young man was in full-out panic mode, just like Brian had seen him in that bathroom at the school. Justin was huddled in on himself, still shaking occasionally, not moving or saying anything. After a lot of effort, Brian had finally gotten the boy to allow him to touch him, pulling the scared young man out of the corner and up onto the bed with him. Justin was quieter now, and not shaking so much, but still hadn’t said anything. Brian was talking to him softly, continuously, rambling on about anything that came to mind, not really worrying about what he was saying but just trying to get through to Justin and reassure him with the sound of his voice. 

Several minutes/hours/whatever later - did it really matter how long it had been since they really couldn’t keep track of time very well being kept here in the dark - Brian thought he heard a car drive up and the door being slammed shut. Then, the sound of the cabin’s front door being opened and closed was followed by various clanks, rustlings and sundry other noises from the main room. Brian got up from the bed to move closer to the door, hoping to get some information - anything that might help him. Justin whimpered and tried to hold Brian back when he started to move, but the young man quieted when Brian kissed him lightly and he settled back against the one threadbare pillow. 

“You were fucking followed, you idiot!” Brian heard one voice yelling.

“Like fuck I was. I didn’t see anyone following me. Besides I just now got back, if he’d followed me how’d he get here before me?” another, younger voice shouted back.

“You moron. I meant last night. He must have followed you last night when you drove up from Pittsburgh.” The other, older voice chided. “Then, when he saw you leave this morning he must have thought the cabin was empty and that’s when he came in. It’s just damn lucky I was still here. But, now we have another complication to take care of and we didn’t need any complications - this situation was messy enough to start with.”  
“So what the fuck are you going to do with him,” the younger voice, probably Hobbs, Brian thought, asked the obvious question.

“Don’t you mean what are WE going to do, jockstrap?” the older voice was denigrating, clearly unhappy with his younger companion. “You’re in this too, idiot. Plus, he’s seen your face and probably recognized you. Me, I’m nobody, but you he can identify.” 

“Fuck!”

“Yeah. Fuck is right,” the oldster added. “Okay. First thing, we need to find his car - he had to have driven up here somehow. So, you go out and walk down the road a few miles and see if you can find his fucking car.”

“I can’t fucking walk a few miles - broken leg, remember?”

“Whatever. Drive then. Just find that car. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on our guests.”

With only a few more complaints, Hobbs eventually left to do as he’d been told, the sound of a car driving away proof that he’d gone. Brian returned to Justin on the bed. Wrapping his arms around the warm, yielding body of his companion, Brian allowed himself to doze a bit, trying to make up for his lack of sleep last night. He wasn’t allowed to rest for long though - the sound of Hobbs returning waking him not long afterwards. 

“Found it. It’s only like a mile down the road. Parked on the side,” Hobbs informed the nameless thug. 

“Great. Now we get rid of it.” Thuggie said. 

Brian couldn’t hear much beyond that - it seemed that their captors were continuing the conversation in whispers. This was far from reassuring to Brian. He thought quickly and slipped his keys and cell phone out of his pocket and under the edge of the mattress - not the best hiding place, but there weren’t a lot of choices here. Then, he picked Justin up and deposited the boy back on the floor in the corner, bringing over the busted night stand to put back in front of him in order to provide what little protection it offered. Finally, Brian moved over to stand with his back against the wall next to the door, and waited to see what would happen next.

When Brian heard the deadbolt lock being flipped open, he readied himself. He’d already noticed that because of the small dimensions of the room and the way the bed was situated, it was impossible to open the door fully - the corner of the bed inevitably blocked the door when it was only ¾ open. Brian’s plan was to hide behind the door, wait until whoever came in, then slam the door into the fucker and hopefully either knock him out or at least disarm him long enough for Brian to get out of the room. Maybe not the most brilliant plan, but the best he had right now.

The door swung open slowly. Brian could see from the shadow on the bedroom floor, that there was only one figure standing in the doorway and whoever it was had something in his hands that he was holding above his head like a weapon. The intruder was looking around, scanning the room to determine where the captives were, when Justin helpfully let out an audible moan and directed his attention towards the corner where the boy was hiding. 

The figure in the doorway moved forward two steps in Justin’s direction. Brian then used all the force he could muster to slam the door back into the man’s shoulder, knocking the figure to the ground and causing the door to slam shut. Without hesitation, Brian launched himself onto the prone figure, trying to get control of the weapon still in the other man’s hands. In the darkness, though, it was impossible to see what he was doing.

The next moment, several things happened virtually simultaneously: The struggling figure underneath Brian, who had to be Hobbs based on the man’s size, managed to twist his frame around enough to get out from under Brian and roll away. Brian rose to his knees ready to grapple for the man again. At the same time, the door was pushed open from the outside, allowing the light from the main room to flood into the bedroom. Brian was facing towards the doorway at the time it was opened and was temporarily blinded by the bright light, causing him to freeze for just a second. Hobbs, who had managed to get to his feet still holding onto the baseball bat he’d been carrying, swung at Brian just as the older man’s attention was diverted by the opening door. All this was eclipsed however, by the deafening roar of a gunshot.

The next thing Brian knew was that he was lying on his side on the floor, his head propped up at an uncomfortable angle and he had the worst headache he’d ever had in his life. He let out a loud groan and tried to move his head to relieve the pain in his neck but a warm, firm hand pressed against his cheek, prevented him from moving. He knew his eyes were open, but it was too dark to see anything. He tried to speak but his mouth was incredibly dry. He tried to swallow, but even that hurt.

“Shh. It’s okay, Brian. Just lie still. This cut is still bleeding a little, so I don’t want you to move.”

Justin’s voice. Justin was okay. Brian let himself relax and drift back to sleep. 

+++++++++++++++++

Brian thought he heard singing. It was quiet, and only a few words here and there were comprehensible, interspersed with humming, but he thought he vaguely recognized the melody. What he didn’t understand was where he was and why someone was singing in the first place.

“Let’s hear it for the boy. . . . Let’s hear it for my baby. . .hmmm hmm hmm. . . . Maybe he’s no Romeo, but he’s my lovin’ one man show, hmmm hmm hmm hmm. . . .Let’s hear it for the boy.“

“I didn’t know you could sing, Sunshine,” Brian said as soon as he woke up enough to recognize the voice.

“I can’t. You’re delirious and imagining things,” was the quiet response, which was followed up by a soft touch on his cheek.

“Nope, I’m pretty sure I heard you singing. Do I appear to need lullabys, Sunshine? You should save those up for Gus.” Brian shifted slightly before he realized that was a really bad idea. “So, who was driving the truck that ran me over and did you get the license plate?”

“It wasn’t a truck. It was Chris.” Justin said in a small voice, fear and sadness evident from his tone, although Brian couldn’t think why Justin would be sad for Chris Hobbs.

“Ah. Bat boy. I should have known. Where is the little fucker now?” Brian didn’t want to be lying helpless with the homicidal slugger on the loose if he could help it.

“He’s dead. I think.”

“What?” Brian sat up, ignoring the pain and the wave of dizziness, too shocked to remain lying on the floor.

“I think he’s dead,” repeated Justin, his voice just barely audible. “The old guy, the one with the gun, shot him. I think he was trying to get you, but Chris hit you with the bat first and you were already falling over when the guy fired and. . . . it hit Chris instead.” Justin was crying now, but Brian didn’t think he realized it. “The other guy dragged him out of here then shut the door. Nobody’s been back since.”

“Fuck.” Brian tried to get to his feet, but another bout of dizziness hit and he fell back to the floor, holding on to the edge of the mattress. 

“Brian, please, just lie still. You’re hurt. I don’t know how bad. It took forever to get the bleeding to stop. But, I can’t tell how bad it is so, please just lie back down and don’t push it.” Justin was trying to get Brian to lie back down, pulling at his arm ineffectively. 

“I don’t want to stay on the floor, Justin. The mattress probably isn’t much cleaner, but it’s a little softer. Can you just help me up to the bed?”

With Justin steadying him, Brian was able to crawl up onto the mattress. Justin picked up the pillow off the floor where it had been supporting Brian’s head while he slept and then climbed onto the bed next to Brian. The two men lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, not saying much for quite some time.

“Are you okay, Justin,” Brian finally asked. “You were really freaking me out before.”

“Yeah. I’m better. I . . . . Seeing Chris again and that other guy with the gun, it . . . it was too much.”

“I bet.” Brian squeezed Justin tight. “So, my escape attempt, not really very effective, huh?” Brian tried to lighten the mood. 

“Nope. Not really. Got any other brilliant plans, Superman?” Justin teased back, his joking tone relieving even more of Brian’s worry. 

“Use my heat vision to melt the lock on the door? Telepathically signal my sidekick to come and save us - no, that won’t work since you’re already here. How about I fly around the Earth at supersonic speed until I get the planet to spin backwards, effectively reversing time back till just before all this shit happened in the first place?” Brian joked.

“I like that last one,” Brian could feel Justin smiling, the younger man’s face snuggled up against his neck. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

Justin’s smile morphed into a tender little kiss against Brian’s neck, which was followed up by several more kisses leading up the strong, lean neck and then along his jaw and finally finding the willing raspberry lips. Brian pulled the younger man closer to deepen the kiss. Justin shifted his body so he was kneeling astride Brian’s lap, holding on with both hands to his lover’s face, now kissing frantically, smashing his mouth against Brian’s again and again, not letting either of them surface for air. 

“I thought you were dead, Brian,” Justin moaned into his lover’s mouth, finally stopping long enough to take a breath. “I thought he’d killed you. You weren’t moving and there was so much blood.” Justin’s voice faded as his mouth latched on once again to the lips he had feared were lost to him.

The dexterous, long fingered artist’s hands were scrabbling at Brian’s shirt, now, trying to get through the material to the warm skin beneath. When it seemed that undoing the buttons was taking too long, Justin simply pulled the shirt tails out of Brian’s pants and just shoved the whole thing up, finally able to indulge in touching and tasting the toasty golden skin, the hard already erect nipples, his hands roaming wildly trying to touch every part of Brian at the same time. And, when the skin on his lover’s chest and stomach wasn’t enough to satisfy his craving, the impassioned young man began fumbling with Brian’s belt, wild to quench this need to reassure himself that Brian was still alive. 

Brian tried to help Justin out with his belt, but his hands were batted away by the frenzied blond whirlwind. Groaning in frustration, Justin tried once again and this time managed to unfasten the belt buckle, allowing him to tear off the underlying button which gave him just enough leeway to slide the slacks roughly down over Brian’s hips. The crazed whirlwind then raised himself up long enough to get out of his own pants, and immediately threw himself back down onto his lover’s lap, still kissing and biting at Brian’s neck and chest and fondling every bit of skin he could touch. 

Justin was so hysterical by this point he wasn’t able to think. He needed to feel Brian inside him right NOW. He wanted to feel filled and taken and possessed by this man that he almost lost. He grabbed onto the taller man’s shoulders for support, then raised himself up, ready to slam down on Brian’s already engorged cock, but was stopped by Brian, causing Justin to groan in frustration. 

“Justin, just a second. Need a condom. My jacket,” Brian managed to pant out. 

Justin grabbed for the jacket that was lying at the foot of the bed and fished out a condom from the pocket, feverishly ripping open the package and rolling the condom onto Brian at astonishing speeds, not bothering with lubricant. Then, once again positioning himself with his needy hole aimed right at the object of his desire, he crashed his hips down in one swift stroke, taking all of Brian’s thick, hot shaft in at once. He didn’t try to muffle the scream that roared out of the depths of his being at the combination of pain and ecstasy that instantly washed over him. 

Arching his back, his head thrashing wildly side to side, the whirlwind rode Brian hard and fast, positioning his hands against his lover’s strong, muscular chest for leverage and flexing his thigh muscles to keep up the driving pace. It took only minutes for both men to feel the tightening, burning firestorm of release, each cuming with explosive force, feeling the multiple pulsing convulsions that tore through their frames, fusing their beings together for those few brief rapturous moments. As the last tremor of his fading orgasm began to peak, Justin let out a brazen yell, voicing all his lust and fear and frustration before collapsing onto Brian’s sweat streaked chest in utter exhaustion.

“And here I was thinking you guys needed to be rescued,” Ted Schmidt’s laughing voice rang out from the wide open doorway just as the young blond melted into Brian’s chest, Justin’s last exuberant cry still echoing in everyone’s ears.


	24. The Search Continues.

Chapter 24 - The Search Continues.

The driveway and road outside the Taylor cabin were a complete circus. There were State Police, Clinton County Sheriffs, and even a couple of Pittsburgh PD squad cars. There were also State Park Rangers, two fire trucks and three ambulances. As soon as Brian and Justin had managed to disentangle themselves and find their clothes, they’d been escorted out of the cabin by EMTs and Brian’s injury bandaged. 

According to the tall black guy who cleaned and bandaged his head, Brian had been lucky. Apparently, when he turned to look at the door, he’d moved just enough so that Hobb’s swing only glanced against the back of his head. If he hadn’t moved right at that moment, the force of the blow might have killed him. As it was he was definitely going to need about twenty stitches and probably had a mild concussion. 

While the two lovers were sitting on the back of one of the emergency vehicles, still hand in hand and refusing to be separated, the County Coroner’s van pulled up and a few minutes later, a gurney with a sheet covered body was wheeled out and loaded into the back. Justin looked away while they were moving the body. Brian couldn’t empathize with him about this - as far as he was concerned the fucker deserved what he got - but he hated to see Justin upset for any reason and took pains to comfort his boy until the van drove off. 

A few minutes later, a Sheriff’s deputy led the older thug, someone had said his name was Carter, out of the cabin in handcuffs. The man was silent as he passed, scowling at his former captives. Right behind Carter came Detective Horvath and Ted Schmidt, who both walked directly over to the lovebirds - Ted still smirking a little and Horvath looking decidedly embarrassed every time he looked in Brian and Justin’s direction. Apparently, watching two guys fucking their brains out while being held captive in a forest cabin wasn’t a regular occurrence on the Pittsburgh police force. Brian thought he should feel honored to have witnessed such a great fuck - Justin had been magnificent, at least in Brian’s opinion.

“Kinney,” Horvath greeted the man who was holding a dressing against the back of his head while the EMT was looking for something in the back of the ambulance. 

“Well, Detective Horvath. What brings you out to the Great Western Wastelands,” Kinney’s usual sarcasm was back, indicating that he was already feeling much better. “Don’t tell me that you finally believe me about Justin being in trouble and all?”

“Well, it turns out you might have something there after all,” Horvath said good-naturedly, willing to admit his shortcomings. “Thanks to your friend Schmidt, here, I finally had some solid leads to pursue. You’re both lucky that he had pulled those property tax records and knew when you didn’t show up to call me.” Horvath clapped Ted on the shoulder affectionately. “You know, Kinney, you COULD have called me with the information you had instead of rushing up here like the Great American Hero trying to save the day? It would have been a lot easier on your head.”

“Sorry, Detective. But, you know how it is,” Brian said, his tongue firmly planted in his cheek. “I just couldn’t wait to get back to Justin’s sweet, hot, little ass.”

*Hmmm* “Actually, I don’t know,” Horvath said, looking down at his notebook in order to avoid Brian’s amused gaze, while the three gay men openly laughed at his embarrassment.

“Okay. Now you both get to answer a metric fuck ton of questions for me,” Horvath went on, more comfortable to be back on topic.

“Sorry, Detective,” the attractive dark-skinned black EMT interrupted. “This man needs at least twenty stitches and may have a concussion. We need to get him to a medical facility and looked at by a doctor before you get into all your questions.” The EMT looked back at Brian as he finished speaking, an invitation clear in his dark chocolate eyes, and he ‘accidentally’ brushed his hip against Brian’s thigh as he turned back to his job of securing the bandage. 

“Detective Horvath,” Justin spoke up, “wouldn’t it be more convenient if we went back to Pittsburgh right away. Brian can be seen at the hospital there and it would definitely be quicker for you to question us on the drive there.” 

The opinionated blond turned to the EMT and smiled a saccharine sweet smile in his direction as he finished this suggestion. The man looked at Justin and then back at the gorgeous brunet, who merely shrugged at him with one eyebrow raised, and the man finally conceded the blond’s claim to the attractive, virile Kinney. When Horvath asked the EMT if it would be possible to transport Kinney back to Pittsburgh, a three hour plus drive, without risking his health, the lovely but outclassed black man just laughed and nodded, reluctantly relinquishing his patient.

Over the next three hours, Horvath asked question after question while a uniformed officer drove and Brian and Justin cuddled in the back seat of the squad car. Justin was careful not to point out that they were cuddling and Brian was careful to avoid noticing it, but both men seemed unable to keep their hands off one another. Horvath was careful not to look directly into the back seat, pretty sure that he didn’t want to see exactly what those hands were doing. By the time the group arrived at Allegheny General Hospital, Brian and Justin had told the whole story of the kidnapping and Carl felt he now had probable cause to arrest Craig Taylor.

The only oddity, as far as Carl Horvath could see, was that some of Justin’s answers were a little vague. For instance, he didn’t seem to recognize the cabin he’d been held in, even though it was still in the name of his paternal grandfather, Edward Taylor. In fact, Justin didn’t even recognize his grandfather’s name. And, when asked if he had any idea why his father, Craig Taylor, would be involved in his kidnapping, Justin seemed completely confused and at a loss for an explanation - definitely not what Horvath would have expected. Justin’s only response was that he didn’t have any contact with his family and didn’t know why his father would do anything to hurt him other than because he disapproved of the boy’s lifestyle. From the veiled looks Kinney was giving his partner, Horvath thought maybe the ad man had more information - information he didn’t want to share with the younger man. Horvath felt in his gut that there was a lot more to this than meets the eye, but decided he’d hold off on this line of questioning for the time being. 

Back in the Pitts, Horvath left the two ‘Kinney’ men at the hospital ER desk and called for another squad car to meet him at the Taylor residence. By the time the police arrived at Craig Taylor’s home it was past 9:00 pm. Carl Horvath led the team up to the front door, rang the bell and waited until the front door was opened by an attractive, forty-ish blonde, whose face showed complete amazement at the sight on her doorstep.

“Excuse me Ma’am,” Horvath began. “Is Craig Taylor here?”

“Yes, he is. But, may I ask what this is about?” Jennifer Taylor asked.

“Are you Mrs. Taylor?” Horvath asked and wasn’t surprised when the woman nodded. “I’m sorry to tell you this Mrs. Taylor, Ma’am, but I have an arrest warrant for your husband. He’s wanted in connection with the kidnapping and assault of Justin Kinney and his partner, Brian Kinney. So, if you would please stand aside and let these officers in to do their duty, I’d appreciate it greatly.”

Jennifer was too stunned to say anything further. She merely stepped aside and watched while the three uniformed police officers entered the house and moved into the living room where Craig was planted in front of the television. The older Taylor seemed blindsided by the appearance of police in his home. When Horvath informed him what he was under arrest for and read him his rights, though, Craig clammed up tighter than a virgin’s ass. 

“Craig. What the hell is this about,” Jennifer confronted her husband as he was being hustled through the living room and out the front door. “What is this about Justin? OUR Justin? You’re involved somehow with someone kidnapping our son? Craig! Answer me!”

“Shut the fuck up, Jennifer,” Craig commanded. “Call my lawyer and have him meet me at the police station. And DON’T say anything more.”

After Craig had been escorted out of the house and down the drive to one of the waiting police cars, Jennifer clasped Detective Horvaths’ jacket sleeve before he could leave the house. 

“Detective, please, is this about my son, Justin? He’s been missing for weeks. Has he been found? Do you know where I can find him?” Jennifer was pleading now, almost in tears, fearing after hearing the words ‘kidnapping’ and ‘assault’ that Justin was seriously hurt. “Please, detective, if he’s hurt, I have a right to know.”

“Relax, Mrs. Taylor. Justin appeared fine - it was his partner who was injured, but I don’t think it was too serious,” Horvath tried to reassure the distraught woman. “We left the two of them at Allegheny General about a half hour ago. You can probably still find them there if you hurry. Goodnight, Mrs. Taylor. Sorry for interrupting your evening, Ma’am.”

Jennifer slammed the door shut behind the retreating detective and ran to the phone. She was still confused about whatever was going on - Craig being arrested, Justin being kidnapped and assaulted and what was all that about Justin’s ‘partner’ - but all she cared about at the moment was finally finding her son. She could figure all the other stuff out later, she thought. 

Picking up the phone and dialing ‘411’ she got the number for Allegheny General and waited while the call was connected. Then, she spent several minutes explaining to one unhelpful hospital employee after another what she needed until she was eventually put through to the emergency room intake desk. She quickly explained who she was trying to contact and waited on the line for the attendant to search for her son.

++++++++++++++++

“Excuse me. Are you Justin Taylor?” a young brunette woman who had just entered the curtained off area where Brian was getting his stitches asked. 

“No. The name is ‘Kinney’,” Justin responded, his attention focused on the cursing and complaining brunet sitting on the examination table as the poor baby suffered through getting yet another suture to the back of his head. 

Justin was too distracted to care about what or why the orderly was asking. He was too busy consoling Brian, who was heartbroken over the fact that they had shaved the back of his head in order to put in the stitches. Justin was also preoccupied by trying not to laugh at his partner who was far more upset at his haircut than at the actual stitches. 

+++++++++++++++++++

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I wasn’t able to locate any Justin Taylor here in the ER,” the attendant told the caller once she got back to the ER desk. “You might try the main hospital administration desk, though, in case the boy you’re looking for was admitted to another department.”

“Damn it - stupid incompetent idiots,” Jennifer almost cursed she was so angry. 

Jennifer wasn’t giving up so easily though. She knew she was close to finding her son and she wasn’t taking the word of those inept hospital peons. She would go see for herself.

“Daphne. It’s Jennifer Taylor. I may have located Justin. Can you be ready to come with me in five minutes? I’ll explain everything as we drive,” Jennifer said into her cell phone as she ran out the door, grabbing her coat and car keys as she ran to her car.

++++++++++++++++++

Halfway to the hospital, as she was telling Daphne what had transpired earlier this evening in her living room, something the detective had said finally clicked in Jennifer Taylor’s brain. She suddenly remembered Detective Horvath saying something about Justin’s ‘partner’, Brian Kinney. Then, she finally connected that name with the man that had come to her home early yesterday asking for Craig - she was almost 100% sure that man had said his name was Brian Kinney. And, again, that thought reminded her of the barrista on Liberty Avenue who had said something about Justin being seen with someone named, ‘Kinney’. It was finally all falling into place and Jennifer knew that Brian Kinney was the key to everything.

Jennifer dropped Daphne off at outside the ER while she went to park the car. When she finally got inside, she found the exasperated young woman standing at the ER intake desk arguing with the attendant there. The attendant was trying to tell Daphne, once again, that she had no record of any ‘Justin Taylor’ having been admitted tonight and that she’d already tried looking for the man earlier this evening when someone else had called looking for him. Jennifer interrupted the woman before she could repeat herself for the third time.

“What about ‘Brian Kinney’? Do you have a Brian Kinney here?” Jennifer demanded breathlessly.

The woman glanced down at her computer screen and looked up smiling, glad to finally be able to help these frantic women. 

“Yes. We did have a Brian Kinney here earlier this evening,” said the attendant. Then, clicking the computer mouse a few times, she added, “but it looks like he was discharged already.”

“Yes! We’ve found him, Daph!” Jennifer shouted. Then turning back to the ER attendant she asked, “we need to find Mr. Kinney, right away. Can you give me his address, please.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. We can’t give out any patient information,” the stalwart attendant replied, watching as both womens’ faces fell.

++++++++++++++++++

“I have no idea, Daphne,” Jennifer was saying again. “I know it doesn’t make any sense that Justin would still be here in Pittsburgh, apparently with this man ‘Brian Kinney’, and wouldn’t have contacted us. But, this Kinney character keeps popping up too often for it to be simple coincidence. I’m sure he knows where Justin is - we just have to find Brian Kinney.”

The two women approached the front desk at the downtown police station and waited until the desk sergeant acknowledged them.

“Ladies, how can I help you?” the older man asked pleasantly.

“We’re trying to find Detective Horvath,” Jennifer explained. “He arrested my husband, Craig Taylor, earlier this evening. I need to talk with him about my son, Justin.”

“I think Carl may have already left for the night, Ma’am,” said the kindly policeman. “But, let me just check with the squad room and see for you. Just give me a minute, okay.”

The man picked up the desk phone and pushed an extension, asking whoever answered the line about Horvath’s whereabouts. He waited for several minutes for a response and then nodded his head and hung up the phone.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” the sergeant said to Jennifer. “Detective Horvath left about a half hour ago. I can take a message for you though and have him call you back in the morning.”

“Maybe you could help me instead, Sergeant,” Jennifer tried. “I need to get in touch with someone about my son’s, er, my husband’s, case - Detective Horvath was working on the case and told me the man’s name but I missed them at the hospital earlier. The man’s name is Brian Kinney. I believe he’s a witness on the case.”

“Sorry, Ma’am. We can’t give out witness contact information. Especially not to the wife of a suspect.”

“Of course you can’t,” Jennifer admitted in defeat. 

The dejected woman turned to leave, ready to give up, when Daphne grabbed her arm causing her to look up again. 

“Mrs. Taylor, I have an idea. Don’t give up yet,” Daphne said, smiling at the older woman who suddenly felt reassured and hopeful.


	25. A Night to Remember.

Chapter 25 - A Night to Remember. 

Justin couldn’t figure out why Brian was so quiet on the drive home from the hospital. They were free and both of them were okay - except, of course, for Brian’s bad haircut and the stitches - they were together and they were on their way back to the loft, where Justin had definite plans as to how to show his lover just how glad he was to be back. But if it hadn’t been for Ted, who had brought Brian’s car back from Williamsport, and the accountant’s occasional attempts at conversation, the ride would have been completely silent. Justin waited until they’d dropped Ted off at his apartment, thanking him profusely again for saving their asses, before broaching the subject with Brian. 

“Spill it, Brian,” was all Justin needed to say as soon as he’d pulled away from the curb in front of Ted’s place. 

Brian knew exactly what Justin was asking, but he had no idea how to respond. He’d actually been thinking about the phone conversation he’d had with Carl Horvath before they’d left the hospital. The detective had called him to let Brian know that they had arrested Craig Taylor and to ask a couple of follow up questions. Luckily, at the time Horvath had called, Justin had been off getting the two starving men some food and coffee - the questions had been awkward enough for Brian to answer without the younger man there listening.

Horvath had questioned Kinney about some of the discrepancies and vague answers that Justin had given during the drive back to the Pitts. Brian had reluctantly admitted to the detective that Justin himself didn’t really know the whole story. He had then confessed to Horvath that Justin’s real last name was Taylor - although Horvath had already surmised that from conversations with Craig & Jennifer Taylor and from other clues he’d come across in the various witnesses’ statements - and Brian explained all about the boy’s memory loss. He’d also admitted that he hadn’t yet told Justin about his past. 

The explanation seemed to satisfy Horvath and answered a lot of questions about this strange case. Unfortunately, it also brought to a head Brian’s dilemma about whether or not to tell Justin everything about his past and about them. Brian had promised himself that he would tell Justin, and he had truly meant to do just that on a number of occasions. But, somehow, it just had never happened. Now, Brian was having second thoughts. Well, not really - he knew he would have to tell the boy the truth since it would inevitably all come out now, no matter what he wanted - but how could Brian tell him without hurting him? 

Justin was watching Brian closely while all these thoughts were racing through the concerned man’s head. Brian knew that his usual mask of indifference had been lost somewhere in that little cabin in the woods and that his face was probably revealing more than he would like. For once, the man was just too tired, confused and, due to the pain meds no doubt, muzzy headed to bother trying to hide his emotions. He looked over at Justin, who was pretending to concentrate on driving in order to give Brian a few moments to collect his thoughts, and tried to make a decision.

-I still can’t get over how beautiful he is. . . . God that is such a fucking sentimental thought, I know, but I can’t help it - ‘attractive’ just isn’t a strong enough word, and yes, he’s ‘hot’ but it’s more than that, and ‘adorable’ - well I’m NOT going there, but . . . . he’s covered in bruises and cuts and I still can’t think anything except that this man is fucking beautiful. . . . Shit that bruise on the side of his jaw is fucking huge. It’s got to hurt like a motherfucker. I know the EMTs gave him some aspirin but that was hours ago. . . . I can’t believe I let this happen to him. AGAIN. . . . I keep promising myself, and him, that I will take care of him and not let anyone hurt him but apparently I’m fucking useless. . . . That’s the main reason I didn’t tell him the truth right from the beginning, isn’t it - I thought I’d be protecting him. . . . Well, that and I wanted to take him home. What the fuck is that all about? . . . Fuck. It’s true, I wanted to take him home and take care of him - I didn’t see it then, but. . . Fuck me. It’s the fucking truth.. . . . I still want to take care of him. . . . When the fuck did I get this screwed up? . . . God. Seeing him in that fucking cabin. . . . This is bullshit. I have to tell him everything. I need to do it before he hears it all from someone else, too, or he’ll be even more pissed off at me. . . . . Those eyes - those fucking radiant blue eyes - I can’t fucking think straight when he’s looking at me like that . . . . I’m so fucked. . . . Okay. I’ll tell him. . . tomorrow. I’ll tell him tomorrow. And tonight. . . . I’ll make tonight the best fucking night of his entire twink life.

+++++++++++++++++

“See, Mrs. Taylor. It’s a piece of cake - God, I love the internet,” Daphne was spouting off, showing Justin’s mother the results of her online research. “All I did was search ‘Brian Kinney Pittsburgh’ and - Voila! - everything you ever wanted to know about the guy.”

“Daphne, you’re amazing!” Jennifer was astonished at how easily her young friend had found the man who was hopefully going to lead her to her son. “So, this is his business?”

“Yep. Kinnetik Advertising. This Kinney guy is good too - look at all the articles on him in the local business journals and - see here, he won a CLIO award even.” Daphne was in her element now and was jumping from site to site, gathering more info on Brian Kinney as she went. “Okay. Here’s his company website - It’s really well done, too. This guy’s got class. No wonder Justin’s in love with him.”

“Daphne, we don’t know that. We don’t know anything.” Jennifer wanted to be cautious in approaching Brian Kinney. “In fact, we don’t know that he isn’t the reason why Justin hasn’t contacted us. Maybe this Brian Kinney is intentionally keeping Justin from us.”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Taylor,” Daphne defended her friend. “Justin’s not the type to let anyone tell him what to do against his will. If he’s with this Kinney guy, it’s because he wants to be. Plus, from the way that barista and that detective spoke about Kinney, he didn’t seem to be coercing Justin or anything.”

“Well, I don’t know, Daphne. But, how else do you explain Justin’s behavior the past few weeks?”

“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow. Here’s the business’ address - it’s right off of Liberty Avenue - just like we suspected! We can go there tomorrow morning and confront him.”

“Right. Thanks again, Daphne, for all your help - I never would have been able to do this myself.”

“No problem, Mrs. Taylor. He’s my friend, too.” Daphne said as she continued to scan through web pages. “Shit! Oh, sorry Mrs. Taylor. But, look at this. You won’t believe this! Here on the ‘Meet Our Staff’ page - It’s Justin. He’s. . . . my God! Justin’s the Art Director for the company?”

+++++++++++++++++++++

It was late when Brian and Justin finally got back to the loft. After all they had both been through over the past week, and especially considering Brian’s mood tonight, Justin assumed that they would just take a shower and then go straight to sleep. Justin quickly found out, though, that Brian had other plans. 

Brian unlocked the door to the loft. Justin was waiting for him to pull the door up and enter but was abundantly surprised when Brian hesitated. He turned around placing both his large, compelling hands on the shoulders of his blond treasure and looked into Justin’s eyes with an enigmatic gaze and a sad, brooding little smile. Justin was initially a bit unnerved at Brian’s reaction but then the sensual brunet took possession of his lips with a passionate, deep kiss that dispelled all of Justin’s concerns. 

Before Justin had caught his breath, Brian seized his little treasure, swept him into his arms and carried the amazed Justin into the loft and through to the bathroom, depositing him gently on the tile floor. Without wasting a single action, the bronzed Adonis, turned on the shower and disrobed both himself and Justin, then wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist and carried him under the streaming water, kissing him ardently all the way. When Brian finally let them both come up for air and set Justin down, he filled his hand with soap and began to meticulously wash the blond, cleansing him all over and tending to each of his wounds. 

Justin was enjoying the attention immensely, his eyes closed and his head tilted back, delighting in the feel of his lover’s hands caressing his body. It was incredibly stimulating and relaxing at the same time, and the young man allowed himself to drift on the currents of emotion engendered by those amazing, caring hands. When Brian had completed this stage of his ministrations, he bent to once again worship those delicious full coral pink lips. Justin reciprocated the kiss, gladly opening to Brian’s tongue and returning thrust for thrust with his own, while reaching up to comb his hands through the dripping auburn locks. Brian was startled though when he felt Justin tense up and try to pull away from the appetizing kiss.

“Shit, Brian! Your head. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to get the bandages wet. . . . ” Justin tried to push Brian towards the shower door.

“Shhh.” Brian pinned Justin’s hands to his sides and hushed him with another kiss. “It’s no big deal. We’ll worry about the bandages later, Sunshine.”

Justin allowed himself to be soothed by the kisses and whispers of the man with the amazingly talented tongue who was now licking and nibbling him into submission, tasteing and kissing his lips, his cheeks, his neck, his ear, his throat . . . . “Oooh, Brian. Whoa. Ummmm.” Justin’s argument died out in moaning professions of his pleasure, as Brian walked him back until he was resting against the glass shower wall. 

Raising both pale ivory wrists in one hand and using his other to guide the slender, shapely hips around, Brian pressed his body against Justin’s back, reveling in the feeling of touching all along their lengths. The eager brunet released Justin’s wrists and used his hands to massage and knead the younger man’s lightly muscled shoulders and back and rear, digging his fingers into the yielding flesh, working out the aches from all the hard usage Justin had experienced over the last few days. Justin felt his body melting at Brian’s touch and would have sunk to his knees if the manipulative hands working his muscles weren’t holding him up. 

When Brian felt his sweet blond treasure was sufficiently malleable, he reached to the soap dish and retrieved a condom. As he was rolling the latex sheath on himself, he bent to nip at the sensitive ear of the almost swooning blond. 

“Tonight, you are MINE, Justin. All mine,” Brian was crooning into the beautiful blond locks of his lover. “I want to feel all of you. I want to be inside you and never leave. I want to make you cum so hard that you don’t just see stars but the planets, the galaxy, the whole fucking universe. I want you to know you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Brian. I’ve always been yours,” Justin moaned, as Brian slid two soapy fingers into him, stretching the tight muscles and intensifying the waves of lust already breaking over the younger man. 

“Brian, fuck me now. Please, Brian,” Justin’s pleading became more insistent, his hips emphasizing his need by thrusting backward further impelling his ass onto Brian’s questing fingers.

Brian knew it was time. He withdrew his fingers, stifling the moan from the needy blond with his mouth, and quickly positioned his cock at the pulsing, tight little hole. He held Justin’s hips still for a moment or two, enjoying the sensation of the smaller man straining to push back onto him, more than eager to feel filled. Brian let himself go then, slowly pressing into those inviting depths, not rushing, not wanting the exquisite pleasure to abate.   
“You are my treasure, Sunshine. I wish I could stay inside you forever.” Brian confessed as his cock finally slid all the way home into the perfect welcoming ass of his lover. 

The man who was normally all about control, felt that at this moment he was about to lose it. He wanted to stay like this, buried to his balls in the tight warm depths, not moving just feeling. He tried to hold the squirming slender hips of his lover steady, afraid that any movement at all would start his orgasm. Justin was getting more and more frantic though and Brian took pity on the quivering, needy boy, finally pulling back out, again at an agonizingly slow pace. 

The tormented groan from Justin encouraged him to relent, though, and Brian began thrusting faster and faster until he felt the blond matching his pace. Justin’s forehead was leaning against the glass, his hands gripping onto the top edge of the shower enclosure, and his body was slamming against the wall with each of Brian’s driving movements. Brian’s threw his head back, holding on with both hands to Justin’s slim waist, and abandoning himself to the sensations coursing along his engorged shaft as he plunged repeatedly into his own little heaven. 

Brian didn’t want this to end. He wanted to stay inside his lover forever - just maintaining this endless feeling of euphoria. Both men were too inflamed though for this to gone on much longer. When Justin raised his hips slightly, guiding Brian’s motions at an altogether novel angle, the new stimulation pushed both groaning over the edge, releasing all the pent up emotions and fears from the past week in a simultaneous eruption of hot, liquid passion and leaving both men trembling. 

“Brian, that was. . . “ Justin finally found his voice enough to whisper his satisfaction, but Brian again hushed him with a kiss.

“Don’t say anything, Sunshine, Brian moaned around the succulent lips. “This isn’t over yet.”

Brian efficiently got them both out of the shower and dried, then once again swept his willing blond treasure into his arms and sped off to their bed, depositing his burden in the center of the plush mattress. Justin giggled at the sudden playful glint in Brian’s eyes, as the man bounced onto the bed at his feet and sinuously climbed up the damp, soft skin of the younger body, until he reached his goal. Taking Justin’s still half-erect cock into his mouth, Brian worked it skillfully, licking and sucking, until the blond was fully hard again and writhing against the sheets, ready for the next round. 

Releasing the youth’s flawless cock and smiling up at his waiting lover with a devilish grin, Brian crawled the rest of the way up the responsive slender body, licking his way along, until he could once again take possession of those full, enticing lips. After feasting on the willing mouth until both of them were again breathless, Brian wound his arms around the blond and rolled them both over so that Justin ended up lying on Brian’s warm, solid chest. 

“I want to feel all of you, Sunshine. God, I want you so bad,” Brian repeated while raining more kisses onto the beaming face of his young lover. Then, in an almost reverent voice, he added, “I want to feel you inside me.”

Justin was momentarily staggered at Brian’s admission. The adoring older man didn’t give him any opportunity to stop and think, though. Sliding out from under the young blond, Brian rolled over onto his stomach and wrapped one arm around a pillow, pulling Justin over on top of him with the other. Twisting his head around enough so that he could continue to kiss and nibble at Justin’s neck and jaw, he silently reassured the nervous young man with his gaze. 

Justin felt a sense of unbearable lust at the sight of Brian spread out beneath him, offering something that he knew very few had ever sampled. He reached over to the nightstand, snagged the needed supplies and joyously abandoned himself in the wondrous gift his lover was offering. This was definitely going to be a night Justin would never forget.


	26. The Ugly Truth.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian has a plan to tell Justin the truth. But, is it too late? TAG

Chapter 26 - The Ugly Truth.

Justin groaned when the alarm went off at 7:00 am. He rolled over to shut it off, noting that Brian wasn’t in bed next to him. God, he would give just about anything to just roll over and go back to sleep right now - he did a quick mental calculation and determined that he’d only got about two and a half hours sleep total last night, not that he was complaining. But, after missing so much work last week, Justin knew that he and Brian had to get to the office as early as possible. Who knew how big the pile in his in-box would be - he was NOT looking forward to finding out though.

Justin yawned and stretched, feeling that oh-so-pleasant ache in his ass that brought to mind all the wicked fun from last night. He laughed to himself, noting that Brian had fulfilled at least one of his goals - it really did feel like Brian was still inside him. So, where was the lovable hunk this morning, anyways, Justin wondered?

The sound of the downstairs door buzzer and a hushed voice responding, answered his question and encouraged Justin to roll out of bed and pull on some sweats before plodding out to the kitchen. Brian was already filling a cup of coffee from a fresh brewed pot for him as he sat at the kitchen island. But, rather than just sliding the mug over towards him, Brian carried the coffee around the island, holding it just out of Justin’s reach while claiming a good morning kiss before allowing him to finally get his hands on the needed caffeine fix. 

A knock on the door interrupted Justin as he was about to ask Brian why he was up so early. Brian returned from answering the door with a carton full of the most delicious smelling something Justin thought he’d ever experienced. Brian laughed at the way Justin licked his lips as he pulled out several take out containers of food, serving Justin a heaping plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and sausage, along with a glass of orange juice to go with his coffee. Apparently it was true that the surest path to this man’s heart was through his stomach.

“So, Sunshine, when you’ve had enough coffee and food to allow you to formulate words, let me know,” Brian joked, amazed at the rate with which his blond was shovelling in the food. “I have to make a note to start feeding you more regularly,” he added.

Brian finished his own egg-white omelet and wheat toast and cleaned up the mess while Justin finished off his second serving. Brian then came around the island and gathered his blond into his arms for a much more satisfying morning kiss, now that one of Justin’s hungers was appeased. Brian was tempted to carry the lad right back up to the bed for another round or two, but realized from the soreness in his own ass how much more Justin must be feeling their nighttime activities and conceded that he should probably give them both a few hours break.

Brian instead led his little blond treasure to the closet and tried to coax him into getting dressed. However, Justin seemed reluctant to put on clothes this morning. He was still lying on the bed stark naked by the time Brian was doing up his tie. And, from the way the blond was stroking himself, he apparently had other ideas about what Brian should be doing right at this moment. 

“You have to stop tempting me, Sunshine, or we’ll never make it to work,” Brian pleaded when Justin continued to stare at him seductively. “And I know your ass has to be ready for some down time. You’re just asking for trouble, you know.

“I like trouble,” Justin said, batting his eyelashes in that way he had that caused Brian’s dick to instantly jump to attention.

“Oh, Fuck it!” Brian acknowledged defeat, pulling off his tie and allowing himself to fall backwards onto the bed while Justin gleefully pounced on him.

Twenty minutes later, Brian rolled Justin off him, over the side of the bed onto the floor and the laughing, sated blond finally agreed to get dressed. Brian was amazed that they made it to work only thirty minutes late. And, after Cynthia and Jessica, the new receptionist, spent five minutes commiserating with Brian over his bashed head and Justin over his bruises, they all managed to get some productive work time in. 

About 10:30, Brian buzzed Justin over the intercom, interrupting a discussion between him and Phil about the Grand Central production timelines. When Brian told him to make sure that he was available for lunch in one hour, that they had 12:00 pm reservations, he almost told him no - he really had too much work to take time off for an out-of-office lunch, he thought. Something in Brian’s tone of voice though worried him so Justin reluctantly agreed and told his Boss he’d be ready.

At 11:15, Justin looked up from his work to see a delivery person standing at his desk holding a large gold foil box tied with a red silk ribbon. He briefly looked around in confusion wondering who the delivery was for before the delivery person said, “Mr. Kinney?”, handed him the box when he nodded and then left without saying anything further. He pulled the ribbon off and opened the box. Inside there was one magnificent eight petaled bright saffron colored flower and a smaller box also tied with red ribbon. The fragrance from the flower was intoxicatingly strong. Justin lifted the bloom up, noting it stem was inserted in a small plastic vial containing water in order to keep the flower fresh, and under the blood there was small printed card listing the genus and species of the plant, its native locale - Southern China - and its common name - the Golden Gardenia. Setting the flower aside, Justin pulled out the smaller box, which turned out to contain a brand new razor cell phone. 

Justin was smiling to himself over these remarkably sentimental gifts, just about ready to head to Brian’s office to thank the man who he suspected had sent them, when the phone sitting on his desk began to ring. Justin flipped the phone open and noted the caller ID read ‘Adonis’. He was still giggling as he finally answered.

“Hello, Sunshine,” the sultry baritone voice said. “Are you ready for our date?”

“Is this Adonis?” Justin teased. “Well, I’m sorry Mr. Adonis, but I’m afraid I’m already involved with someone and I don’t think he would approve of my dating other guys.”

“Twat. Get your cute, sore little ass out here. I’m waiting at the front door.” Adonis hung up.

As Justin neared the front entrance, he could see a sleek black limo waiting at the curb and Brian standing next to the car, holding open the door and smiling at him through the glass. Justin laughed and waved goodbye to Cynthia as he capered towards his waiting date. Just as he was pushing at the door, he observed Brian glance away from him with a surprised look on his handsome face, apparently looking at something across the street.

Justin ran out of the building, straight for his lover and raised up on his tiptoes to kiss the gorgeous man who was waiting for him. Brian barely kissed him back, his attention still diverted by something behind Justin’s back. Justin twisted his head to see what his lover was looking at and noted that there was a middle-aged blond woman and a young, pretty, black girl approaching the entrance to the office. 

“Hey, Mom. Daphne. I can’t stop to talk now, we’ve got lunch reservations,” Justin said, still smiling at the prospect of his date with Brian as he slid into the back of the limo.

Brian hadn’t moved. He was still standing there holding open the limo door and staring at the approaching women. Justin smiled up at him again, waiting for Brian to get in the car with him, and somewhat confused by the odd look on his lover’s face. Then, Brian looked directly at Justin with a look of alarm on his countenance that finally got the young man’s full attention. And, in that one instant, everything suddenly clicked in Justin’s brain - it was as if someone had suddenly opened a door that had previously been locked, allowing him to see his entire past clearly for the first time in weeks.

Justin slowly got back out of the limo and turned to face the two women who were now standing within a couple of feet of the limo door. 

“Mom?” Justin said, covering his mouth with his hand to partially hide the dismay and confusion that was evident there. “Daphne?”

Justin felt Brian’s hand grasping at his left shoulder and he turned, looking up at the man standing next to him with absolute loathing, his stomach feeling nauseous as he started to back away.

“You knew, Brian? How could you do this to me? All this time, you knew and you didn’t tell me? You let me think we were together, we were partners? What the fuck. Why didn’t you tell me about my family and . . . .” Justin was still backing away from Brian.

“Justin, wait. I was going to tell you today. I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want you to be hurt,” Brian tried to explain, but Justin was walking away so fast now he almost had to yell. “Sunshine, please. Wait, please . . ” 

But Justin had turned and started running and was now turning the corner, not looking back at Brian, his mother or his best friend.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Justin rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer. It was already dark out and there weren’t a lot of lights on inside the house, but the porch light was on so he knew someone was home. When the door opened, he was immediately swept into a crushing hug by Jennifer Taylor who practically dragged him into the house. Daphne, who had been standing behind his mother, wrapped her arms around him from the other side. Justin stood there, letting the two women hug him but he didn’t hug them back or say anything. His entire world had come crashing down today and he didn’t know what to do next or where to go. He only came here out of habit, really. It was his home, so he came home when he didn’t have anywhere else to go. 

“Justin. We are so glad you are home, darling. I’ve been worried sick about you,” Jennifer cooed at her son’s return. “Come in, honey and sit. Have you eaten?”

“Justin, I’m so sorry,” Daphne added. “We had no idea you were hurt. Really. Brian . . . After you left this afternoon, Brian told us what happened. God, I’m so sorry about all this.”

“I could kill your father. He didn’t say anything to me when he knew you were hurt and in the hospital. And then, to get involved with those other people who hurt you . . . “ Jennifer couldn’t go on, the tears were dripping down her cheeks now - tears of relief for her son’s return and anger at the husband who had betrayed them all.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Mom,” Justin replied, dry-eyed. “Can I stay here tonight? I just need to be alone, please.”

“Of course you’re staying here, sweetheart. Where else would you stay.” Jennifer stood and started to lead Justin towards the kitchen. “First, let me fix you something to eat and then you can get cleaned up and . . . .”

Justin wasn’t really listening anymore. It was somehow smothering to be back here in this house. He remembered it now, but it felt so strange and foreign. Somehow his memories and his feelings no longer meshed correctly.

Daphne was watching her friend intently, not saying much. She could clearly see the pain of multiple betrayals in Justin’s eyes and she desperately wanted to comfort him in some way, but didn’t know how. She followed the mother and son pair into the kitchen and allowed Jennifer to serve her some dinner as well while she watched Justin playing with his food not really listening to Jennifer’s well-intentioned chatter.

As Jennifer was cleaning up the remains of the meal, Daphne reached for and clasped Justin’s hand. “Are you going to call him and let him know you’re okay? He was really worried when you ran off,” Daphne asked in a hushed voice so that Jennifer wouldn’t overhear.  
“No.” Justin got up and plodded up the staircase towards his old room to get cleaned up and lie in bed the rest of the night, dozing restlessly and dreaming of the dark chestnut hair, bright hazel eyes and sharp, classical features of the man who he loved and who had betrayed him.

++++++++++++++++

“Michael. It’s me. We have a small problem over here at the house,” Debbie spoke into the old mustard yellow house phone that had been hanging in the same place on her kitchen wall since the 1970’s. 

“Ma. It’s 2:00 am, for Christ sakes. What the fuck,” came Michael’s voice through the receiver.

“I’m not exactly sure ‘what the fuck’ dear, but I do know that Brian is here, passed out in the middle of my living room floor,” Debbie said with as much control over her temper as she could manage at this time of night. “You need to get over here and help me out, with this. He’s fucking drunk out of his mind and babbling and keeps calling your name. So, get your ass over here so I can get to bed.” Debbie then hung up and went to sit on the edge of the couch, staring down at the liquor drenched, tear-stained figure of her surrogate son, wondering what the hell happened to the boy this time.

“He’s gone. I’ve lost him. . . .” Brian moaned in his drunken funk as he rolled over and started crying like he hadn’t cried since he was a small child.


	27. Pain Management For Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Brian nor Justin are happy being separated. TAG

Chapter 27 - Pain Management For Two.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Brian sputtered out as the very cold water splattered into his face. 

This was possibly the least pleasant way he’d ever been woken up, Brian decided. He would have gotten up and killed whoever was responsible for this, but his head still hurt too much for him to move that far. He rolled over onto his side, huddling his body up for protection against the cold and just lay there instead until his brain cleared enough to notice that he was fully clothed, included a $400 pair of prada boots and his new Hugo Boss leather jacket. 

“Fuck. My fucking jacket is gonna be ruined,” Brian moaned and rolled the other direction so he could at least look out the glass shower door to see who his tormentor was. “Theodore. What the fuck are you doing? You do realize you’re fucking fired, don’t you?”

“Lovely to see you too, Bri,” the imperturbable Ted responded. “But, you won’t have to fire me if you don’t get your ass up and get back to the office, since you won’t have a company anymore. You’ve been missing in action for more than a week now, Brian, and everything is pretty much going to shit. So, I suggest you get up, sober up enough to change clothes and then I’ll drive you to work, Boss.”

“Screw you, Theodore,” Brian said, but he did manage to roll himself up onto his knees and crawl out of the shower, collapsing once again on the floor as soon as he was safe from the freezing water. 

“Are you ready to get up now, Bri? Or, do I have to drag your ass back in there for another round?” Ted nudged at the ball of Brian dripping on the tiles. “I dragged you in there once already this morning and I’m not too proud to do it again, you know.”

“Get me a fucking gallon of coffee, six ibuprophen and a towel,” Brian demanded. “Then, you can talk at me. Until then, shut the fuck up before my goddamned head explodes.”

Forty-five minutes later, Ted had succeeded in getting Brian on his feet (sort of), clothed in something that didn’t smell like a combination distillery and pisspot, and had even managed to get the man to hold down some solid food. While Brian was finishing his fourth or fifth cup of coffee, Ted placed a call to Brian’s cleaning service asking that they send someone over today as soon as possible, and quickly scanning the devastation in the loft, wisely offering a substantial bonus due to the extra workload. Ted’s next call was to Cynthia, who was trying to hold down the fort at Kinnetik while he detoxed the Boss. 

“ Yeah, I got him Cyn. He’s even mostly coherent already.” Ted informed his co-conspirator. “I’ll drag him to the office as soon as he’s finished his coffee, but I can’t promise that he’ll be much use. See you in a few, Cyn.”

“Okay, come on, Bri. You’ve got a multimillion dollar account to save.” Ted was trying to leverage the much larger man off the island stool and onto his feet. “You’ve got a 10:30 am conference call with Geneva Pates that you can not miss, so a little help here would be appreciated.”

“Fuck Geneva Pates,” Brian mumbled into his coffee mug.

“No thanks. She’s definitely NOT my type - a little heavy on the pussy for me.” When Brian was still not moving, Ted chose to start playing dirty. “Come on, Brian. You and Justin worked too damn hard to win this account to just let it go like this.” Ted thought he’d finally hit a nerve.

-Bingo. That got his attention, finally. Although, maybe not in a good way. Fuck it. All’s fair in love and advertising.

“So, Phil’s been working on the boards Justin left, and he’s made some really interesting changes. You’ll have to come look them over to see how you like them before the conference call.” Ted added, pointedly looking away from Brian so the other man wouldn’t see the evil glint in his eye.

“Shit. You let Phil fuck with Jus. . . those boards? He’ll totally screw them up, Theodore. That campaign was fucking flawless, what damn changes does he think he could make?” Brian was suddenly energized and on his feet, already heading for the loft door.

-Like I said, Bingo! I guess we found Brian’s magic words, and they ain’t ‘Please’ or ‘Thank you’. One hint of the ‘J’ word and he’s putty in my hands.

Ted grabbed his own jacket and followed Brian out the door of the loft, hoping that the brilliant Ad Man was back.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Get up, Justin,” Daphne was tugging on his arm and ordering him around in that annoying fashion she had and Justin was getting really pissed off. “I’ve been authorized by your mother to use whatever tactics are necessary to get you up and dressed this morning. So, be warned. I’m not above using ice cubes, tickling or even annoying little sisters - whatever it takes to get you out of this damned bed.” 

“Lay off, Daphne. I already said I don’t want to go to the damn Country Club Founders’ Day Brunch.” Justin shouted. “I could give a crap who founded the fucking place and I don’t want to spend my morning with a bunch of tight-assed breeders all congratulating themselves on how superior they are to the rest of the world.”

“This is NOT about the fucking Club Set, Justin. It’s just that your mother is worried about you - you haven’t left the house in, like, days and you barely even get out of bed or eat or anything. I’m worried about you too, so just humor us. Please come have brunch with us. Please.”

“Has anyone ever told you how very annoying you are, Daph?” Justin complained but finally allowed his best friend to pull him up out of bed. 

By 11:00 am, Jennifer, Justin, Molly and Daphne were all dressed in their WASPy finest and were waiting at the door of the Club dining room to be seated. This was the first foray the Taylors had made back to the Club since Craig’s arrest, so Jennifer was extremely nervous and desperately wanted to make as good impression as she could. She knew it wouldn’t be easy to get past the shame caused by the news, but, after all Craig wasn’t the first of their circle to be arrested or even put in jail, especially among the financial types where it was a fairly regular occurrence to hear that one or the other of their ‘friends’ were under investigation or indictment for some shady investment scheme or tax fraud or the like. At least Jennifer knew they were in good company. 

Justin was chafing a bit at having to wear a jacket and tie on a Sunday and he really did not want to be here, but he’d promised Daphne to try to behave. It wasn’t going to be easy though. The last thing his mother had told him before they got out of the car was that most of the people here wouldn’t be ‘comfortable’ with his ‘new lifestyle choices’ and that he should try to ‘act accordingly’. God, he missed the freedom of Liberty Avenue where he didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t. 

As they were finally being seated at a small corner table, Justin felt the cell phone in his pocket vibrating. He pulled it out and looked at the display, not really surprised to see another call from ‘Adonis’. He hadn’t answered any of the calls and had deleted all the messages without listening to them so far, and he didn’t intend to answer this one either, so he hit the ‘mute’ button and put the phone back in his pocket. At least, he thought, the calls were down to only one or two a day now - not like the almost hourly calls, coming at all hours of the day and night, the first few days after he’d returned home. 

“Justin, please turn that thing off,” Jennifer scolded. “It’s not polite to have your cell phone on at the table. And, please, try to smile a little.”

Justin just shook his head and ignored his mother’s request. They’d only just arrived and he was already bored out of his mind. Daphne knew he was struggling and reached over to squeeze his hand in sympathy. He picked up his menu to hide behind and tried to pretend he was at the Liberty Diner instead of here in hetero hell.

The brunch was a long, drawn-out, formal affair with multiple courses. Normally, Justin would have been enjoying the almost endless quantities of delicious food, but the repeated reminders from his mother to ‘take smaller bites’, ‘don’t slurp your drink’ and ‘don’t slouch in your chair like that’, made him feel like he was ten years old again. He was having a tough time holding back his temper, let alone relaxing enough to enjoy the brunch. Daphne was sending him little sympathetic looks and touches every so often to try to keep him grounded, but Justin couldn’t wait to get out of here.

About halfway through the meal, a band came out and began playing a mix of soft rock and oldies songs, aimed mostly at the aging baby-boomers who made up the majority of the Club’s membership. Justin kept almost nodding off, the music was so dull. But several of the brunch attendee’s seemed to like it enough to get up and dance on the small wooden dance floor that had been set up for the occasion. Justin was watching one particular couple - an older man who Justin thought was on the effeminate side (and that was saying a lot coming from a queer) and his stiff, ungraceful wife - who were attempting to dance to a cover of the classic Chubby Checkers’ ‘Twist’, but who were failing miserably. 

Justin was at least entertained watching the couple - it was the first amusing thing he’d seen all day. He leaned over to Daphne, and in a rather loud whisper, commented, “If that lady were a gay man, I’d say, from the way she’s moving, that she’d been fucked one time too many last night and should go find a tube of Preparation H before she hurt herself.” *Ha ha ha*.

Daphne laughed along with Justin, but Jennifer leaned over and angrily hissed in Justin’s ear telling him to please cut it out with the inappropriate jokes. 

“Fuck this,” Justin commented under his breath as he stood up and threw his crisp linen napkin down on the table. “I need a drink. You coming, Daph?”

Using his old fake ID, which he’d found in the wallet Brian had returned to him via his Mother, he ordered a double Jim Beam at the small open bar set up in the corner and gratefully slammed it down before ordering another for himself and a glass of wine for his friend. Daphne watched, a little worried, but she didn’t say anything. Justin took his second drink and grabbing Daphne’s hand, led her over to a casual seating area at the end of the room near the large plate glass windows overlooking the golf course. The two sat quietly sipping their drinks, waiting for Jennifer to finish her meal so they could leave.

When Justin noticed that it looked like Jennifer was finally finishing up with her dessert, he started back to the table, hoping that they could finally escape. Just as he got to the table, a new party was ushered in by the hostess and brought to the table right next to theirs. Justin didn’t immediately recognize the older couple and two teenage kids, but they seemed to know him right away. The older woman let out a little outraged gasp and tugged at her husband’s sleeve, pointing directly at Justin. 

The older man glared at Justin with a look of disgust and menace on his face that was so venomous it caused the young man to take a step backwards. That’s when Justin finally recognized the family - it was Chris Hobbs’ parents and siblings. He stood staring at Hobbs’ father, unable to move or tear his eyes away.  
“We’d like a different table, please.” The elder Hobbs’ told the hostess before she could hand them their menus and leave. Then Hobbs added, in a loud, carrying voice, looking directly at Justin as he spoke, “I don’t want to be seated anywhere near THAT murdering little faggot.”

Justin stood there and watched the retreating group until they were seated at a table on the far side of the room. Then he shook his head and turned away from his family, pulling Daphne along by the wrist as headed over to the band, who just happened to be finishing a particularly dull soft jazz number. Pulling out his wallet and extracting a crisp hundred dollar bill, remembering how Brian had always been slipping cash into his wallet when he wasn’t looking ‘Just for Emergencies’, he waived the bill at the lead singer who bent down to listen while Justin whispered something in her ear. With a huge grin on her face, the singer palmed the bill and spoke quietly to her band, who all seemed to perk up quite a bit at the new request. 

“What are you up to, Justin,” Daphne asked with a worried frown when her friend returned to where he’d left her at the edge of the dance floor.

“I’m just going to try to liven up this fucking wake,” Justin said with an impish grin and he pulled Daphne out to the middle of the dance floor just as the band turned up their amps a couple decibels and started in on the opening bars of the B52’s ‘Love Shack’. 

Laughing uproariously, Justin and Daphne started grinding and bouncing around on the dance floor to the more upbeat music, finally having a little fun. Justin was surprised to actually see a few other couples moving towards the dance floor, just as eager to dance to ‘real music’ as he was. When he spied an attractive twenty-something couple dancing along next to them, he whispered into Daphne’s ear, smiling mischievously while she thought about what he’d suggested and then nodded her head and shrugged with an equally evil grin on her own beautiful face. 

Justin walked with Daphne up to the new couple, and politely tapped the man’s shoulder asking if he might cut in. The man looked to his wife, who shrugged and smiled demurely, so the man stepped back slightly, indicating with his hand that Justin could have the rest of the dance. Justin then shocked the man, and pretty much the entire Club, by grabbing the attractive, taller, dark haired man around the waist and pulling him into a tight, grinding embrace while Daphne twirled away the equally astonished woman. Justin had figured that after the initial shock had worn off the guy he’d tricked into dancing with him would pull away - he’d actually been planning on it - so he was surprised himself when, after the man’s initial astonishment had worn off, he smiled at Justin and laughed loudly. He then spun Justin around, enjoying the little joke almost as much as Justin, and commenting as they danced that this should give the stodgy bores something to talk about out on the golf course today. Justin agreed and they both laughed even louder, grinding away and singing along with the B52’s classic.

When the song ended, Justin noted that the Club manager was speaking with the band’s leader wearing a very unhappy look on his face. He figured their fun was already over, so he thanked his partner for the dance and headed back to his mother’s table. Jennifer was waiting for her son, her face red with anger and shame. As soon as they got near enough, Jennifer stood up, pulling Molly along in her wake and hustled Justin out of the Club to their car. She say a single word to Justin the entire way home, which really didn’t bother him one bit.


	28. Unhappy and Happy New Memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review - I'm feeling rather unappreciated at the moment and your comments would go a long way towards boosting my spirits. Thanks. TAG

Chapter 28 - Unhappy and Happy New Memories.

Michael hadn’t really been into the club scene for quite awhile - not since he and Ben had become serious. He would still go to Woody’s drinking with the guys and maybe dancing at Babylon once a week or so, but since he’d been put on Brian babysitting duty he’d been here every night and it was really getting old. All he wanted to do right now was find Brian and get out of here. The logical place to look, of course, was the backroom, so he started there.

As expected, Brian was reclining on a couch in the far corner of the backroom, two twinks servicing his cock and another straddling him, shoving a respectable looking dick down Brian’s throat at the same time. Even in the dim light, Michael could tell that Brian’s eyes were glazed - he was obviously stoned out of his mind already tonight, which meant it would be harder than usual to get the pain-filled man home. Michael had strict orders from Ted though to get Brian home by 2:00 am so he would be sober enough the next morning for the ad pitch they were making to another new client. So, Michael squared his shoulders and waded into the fray, batting away the twinks and then shaking Brian’s shoulder to try to rouse him.

“What the fuck, Mikey?” Brian slurred out, his unfocused eyes trying to figure out where his trick went but seeing only his best friend. “Where’d he go?”

“He went home, I hope,” Michael told the inebriated brunet. “Which is where you’re going too. So, upsy-daisy, Brian. It’s time for all good little sex-addicts to head home so you can rest up and be ready to fuck the brains out of the rest of gay PA tomorrow night. Let’s go. That’s right.”

Michael led the stumbling man out of the backroom and through the dance floor, maliciously letting Brian bump into the occasional furniture, pillar or bar edge, figuring the Brian wouldn’t remember it tomorrow anyway but too tired himself to really give a damn. Once he had the drunken lout, aka Brian, strapped into the passenger side of the Jeep he jumped in himself and pulled the car out into traffic heading for the loft.   
“I miss the Sunshine, Mikey. It used to be so warm all the time, you know. Now, I’m always cold, Mikey. I hate the cold.” Brian was babbling on, Mikey had become inured to the nightly laments and hardly ever bothered to listen anymore. He just nodded and made little non-committal comments at appropriate breaks in the muttering.

“I know you miss him, Bri.”

“How come he was always so warm? Hmmm. How’d he do that, I wonder?”

“I have no idea, Bri.”

“Fucking gardenia didn’t work, damn it.”

“What about the gardenia, Bri?”

“S’posed to make you never forget y’ur lover. He already f’got.” Michale noticed that the mutterings were already becoming more incomprehensible, which meant Brian was close to passing out, which wasn’t good since there was no way Michael could carry him.

“Stay with me, Bri. Don’t fall asleep on my yet, okay. Tell me about the gardenias again, Bri.”

“S’gonna tell im. Was. A’ lunch. Had it all planned out with the fucking flower and the limo and the . . . . fucking bitch s’had to show up tooooo early. Hadda plan, y’ know.”

“I know, Brian. It would have been great. Here we are. Home sweet home. Come on, Bri. Let’s get you to bed, buddy.”

Michael finally managed to roll the blitzed brunet into his bed, pulled off his shoes and socks but didn’t bother with the rest, just pulling the duvet over all. As he turned off the lights and headed for the door, he pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed Ted. He figured if he had to be up this late for the umpteenth night in a row, Ted could get up too. They had to figure out a better solution to the Brian problem than this. Michael needed a night or two off and Brian - well, Brian needed a few nights off himself or, at this rate, he wouldn’t last out the month.

“It’s me, Ted. We’ve got to talk. I can’t keep this up. . . . Yeah, I got him home and in bed but I doubt he’ll be functional until noon tomorrow - this was the most wasted I think I’ve ever seen him and that’s saying a lot. Meet me at the Diner tomorrow for breakfast, okay. I’ll bring Ben and maybe we can brainstorm some solution to this crap. . . . Yeah. See ya then!”

++++++++++++++++++

Justin didn’t know why he bothered to even look at the phone when it rang anymore. It was always ‘Adonis’ calling and he never took those calls. So, he was surprised when this time, the caller ID showed that Ted was on the line. Justin hesitated but in the end decided to answer.

“Hello, Ted.” Justin said his voice devoid of all emotion.

“Justin. I’m glad I got ahold of you,” Ted started off the conversation light. “How’s it going? We haven’t heard from you in awhile.”

“What do you need, Ted?” Justin wasn’t in the mood for chatting this morning.

“Well, right to business, eh? I was hoping I could maybe talk you into coming back to work. We’re absolutely swamped and Grand Central has been asking for you - they really don’t like Phil’s take on your ideas. It would be a huge help if you could take the campaign back over. Even if it was only temporary, you know.” Ted was pleading now, honestly wanting Justin back for his art skills, even if that wasn’t his primary reason for calling.

“I don’t know, Ted. Can’t Brian handle it?” Justin was proud of himself that he could say the name in a steady voice.

“Not so much,” Ted wasn’t sure how much to tell Justin. “He’s been a little out of it lately.”

“Is he okay?” Ted heard the first sign of emotion from Justin so far in this conversation.

Ted decided to risk it all and just be honest with Justin. The man had been through more than enough already and deserved the respect of Ted’s honesty. Ted didn’t think he was going to like it though.

“Well, that depends on your definition of okay,” Ted began. “He’s not dead yet, so I guess that’s something. But, I haven’t seen him completely sober since you left, either. At this rate I give his liver less than six months.”

“Fuck, Ted. You’re not fucking serious, are you?” Justin started to become concerned, but then, a little worm of doubt found its way into his heart and made him doubtful. “Anyway, it’s not really my problem anymore. Brian is a big boy. He’ll get over it. I gotta go, Ted. Sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come back.” 

“What did he say,” asked Michael who was sitting in the Diner booth across from Ted.

“Didn’t work. I thought I almost had him, but, well. . . Got a Plan B?” Ted asked.

++++++++++++++++++++

“Justin. You’ve got mail,” Jennifer shouted up the stairs to her son. 

She’d received a large package of Justin’s mail this morning, forwarded by Brian. She was more than curious about what was in the large packet. Jennifer had been tempted to open it without Justin, just to make sure that there wasn’t anything that would hurt him more than he’d already been hurt, but she stopped herself. She knew Justin wouldn’t appreciate his mother meddling and she didn’t want to drive him away. Their relationship had been rocky enough since he’d returned.

Justin eventually came dragging down the stairs, still wearing the same sweats he’d been in for three days now. Jennifer bit her tongue to stop herself from nagging at him. Justin sat down at the breakfast table and Jennifer handed him a mug of coffee and sat the large package down in front of him. Then she sat down herself across from him, waiting while he stared at the large envelope without touching it. 

Several sips of coffee later, Justin finally picked the envelope up, holding it in his right hand, still staring at the address. With the other hand, he gently brushed across the front, as if trying to erase the return address in the upper left corner. Apparently gaining enough resolve from this action, he flipped the envelope over and ripped open the sealed flap at one end, liftin it to dump out the contents onto the table.

He spread the stack of letters that fell out across the table. Justin thought that it was pretty much all junk and couldn’t figure out why Brian had bothered forwarding it. Then, at the bottom of the pile one cream colored envelope with a bright blue sticky note on the front, obscuring the return address. The note, written in Brian’s handwriting said only: ‘Hope this is what you were waiting for. B’.

Justin pulled the note off the envelope and saw the return address: Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts.

He turned the envelope over and started to slip a finger under the flap, but hesitated and then turned it over again to look at it - trying to convince himself it was real. 

“What is it Justin?” his mother asked, concerned by her son’s reaction to this one letter.

Justin didn’t say anything. He just handed the letter over to Jennifer, biting his lower lip while she read the return address also. 

“PIFA? What’s this about, honey? Do you want me to open it for you?” Jennifer asked, noting Justin’s nervous nod. “My God, Justin,” Jennifer said after opening the envelope and quickly scanning the contents of the letter. “You’ve been accepted to the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts. This is wonderful. I had no idea you’d applied.”

“I didn’t,” Justin whispered. “I was going to but. . . . I never got a chance to send in the application. Brian must have . . . .”

“Look at this, Justin,” Jennifer went on, ignorant of the conflict Justin was experiencing. “It says there were over a thousand applicants and you were one of only seventy-five accepted for next year’s freshman class. This is so great, honsey. I’m so proud of you.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Justin said as he stood up, turned his back on his mother and the letter and plodded back up the stairs to his bed.

+++++++++++++++++++++

The blue florescent lights over the head of the bed made everything glow in eerie shades of blue and grey.   
Justin opened his eyes wider and looked around at the familiar scene, but as he looked the bare unfinished ceiling of the loft began to morph into a much brighter, intricately painted ceiling, with carved molding and stained glass dome over the bed. Justin stretched and rolled over onto his belly and felt someone stepping onto the bed and then kneeling down to straddle him. He could feel strong hands massaging him, fondling and squeezing the globes of his ass, then a mouth biting at him through the tight cotton briefs he was wearing. The talented teeth then clamped the elastic waistband and carefully tugged at the material until they had worried the boy’s underwear all the way down to his ankles, kissing and licking the nearby skin as they went. 

Justin felt himself being turned over onto his back and looked up to finally glimpse the face of his mystery lover. The dark haired, hazel eyed sensuous man still kneeling playfully over him smiled down with his exquisite lips and then the man reached down to taste the crushed-coral lips of his young lover, unrestrainedly biting at the pouty lower one, sucking it into his mouth to taste anew the seductive sweetness of that tempting mouth. 

“Brian,” Justin heard his own voice moan. “I want to touch you.”

Justin then listened in rapture to the breathy, melodious laughter of his lover who stood up and was then unclothed, his glorious lean, muscular body glowing in the blue light. Brian stepped back up on the bed, towering over Justin, then, lowered himself into position again straddling the younger man’s thighs and reached down with his right hand and to firmly stroke Justin’s hard, leaking cock. Justin felt the small jolts of electricity coursing through his body and let himself go, his wriggling hips and thrashing head picking up their tempo. 

Justin felt himself being rolled over again, and Brian’s flat wet tongue moving steadily over his swelling rump and immediately down into his crack, straight to the tight, roseate pucker with an electrifying touch, causing Justin to gasp and moan. Justin reveled in the sensation of sucking and licking around the rim of his pucker and then felt the tip of a tongue pushing into the tight, warm hole, thrusting deeper and faster over and over   
again. Justin then heard his lover’s voice whispering, “cum for me, Sunshine. It’s time” as he joyfully obeyed, convulsing while his orgasm rolled through his body, hot, sticky cum, coating the sheets and his own abdomen. 

Justin could see the lust and passion in Brian’s eyes and something more, a desire to care for him, protect him, cherish him. Justin blinked, trying to reconcile the emotions he was seeing on Brian’s face with something else he couldn’t quite remember, but when Brian bent to kiss him one more time, he let the nagging thought go. He was now on his back again, with Brian lying on top of him, feeling the exquisite sensation of their skin touching all along their lengths, when the skilled and caring older man smiled at him with such tenderness, Justin felt almost like crying.

“It’s time, Sunshine, for your first time,” the melodious voice purred. “I will make this the best night of your life. I want you to always remember this, remember me. You are so beautiful, you are my treasure, Sunshine. Please don’t forget me, don’t ever leave me. You are MINE.”

Justin experienced the exquisite pain and joy once again as his lover entered him for the first time. Then, he was moaning as Brian was rocking and thrusting into him, as gently as he could at first, then, adjusting his angle so that each stroke would brush over and stimulate Justin’s prostate, and increasing his pace and the depth of each ramming motion. Brian was moaning into his mouth, “God, I love you, Justin. I so fucking love you!” as the electrifying sensations from Brian’s cock in his ass multiplied, and Justin felt the fire and bliss cascading through his body, as he came again, so incredibly hard and for so long that he momentarily lost touch with reality.

*knock, knock, knock* The sound woke Justin from the most amazing dream he’d ever had. 

“Justin, dear, are you okay. I heard you talking in your sleep, honey,” Jennifer stuck her head in Justin’s bedroom and questioned her son.

“Uhhh. Ummm. I’m fine Mom. Sorry if I disturbed you,” Justin stuttered, blushing furiously and wishing she would please just go, quickly. 

“Okay, sweetie,” the loving mother said. And as she pulled the door closed behind her, she added, “just let me know if you need anything.”

“Just dry sheets,” Justin muttered, rolling out of the puddle of cum that drenched his stomach, his hip and most of the sheet under his body. 

As he was pulling the soiled sheets off his bed, Justin couldn’t help but reflect that this new memory that Brian had given him, the memory of his first time, was better than all the memories that he’d lost and then later reclaimed. And, for a brief moment, he regretted that he and Brian wouldn’t be making any more new memories together.


	29. Discoveries at The Museum.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will it take to get the boys to realize that they belong together? Read on to see. Enjoy! TAG

Chapter 29 - Discoveries at The Museum.

“Daphne, I don’t want to go to the fucking museum,” Justin complained for the fifth time since she’d dragged him out of his bed this afternoon. 

“I no longer care what you want, Justin. You’ve been holed up in your bedroom for two weeks now. The room was starting smell. You were definitely starting to smell. And, those sweats you’d been wearing - well lets just say that your mom is in the process of burning them as we speak,” Daphne was through listening to her friend grouse and complain and she wasn’t about to let him go on wallowing. “Besides, you love the museum.”

“Not any more, I don’t,” Justin refused to be coddled into a good mood. 

“Shut up. You do love the museum. You adore art. Why else would you have applied to PIFA?” Daphne went on, trying to segway gently into the subject she really wanted to discsuss.

“I didn’t apply to PIFA, Daph.” 

“Well, if you didn’t apply, then how do you explain your acceptance letter? Your mom showed it to me yesterday.”

“You don’t understand, Daphne.”

“Well, fucking explain it to me then, you dweeb.”

“It was. . . . It must have been Brian.”

“Huh?” Daphne, the tenacious little pit bull that she was, would not be letting this drop, especially since she had orders from Jennifer to find out exactly what this was all about. “Justin. You are going to tell me everything, you know. I have my ways. You might as well just make it easy on yourself and come clean now.”

“Fuck off, Daph.”

“Nope. Not gonna happen, Jus. So, are you saying Brian applied to PIFA for you?”

“I was going to apply. For Kinnetik, you know. So, I would have more credentials behind me and Brian wouldn’t be ashamed to have me as his Art Director,” Justin finally started to explain. “But I never got a chance to complete the application and send it in. Brian must have done it after. . . .”

The pair were entering the Dutch Masters gallery at the Carnegie Museum of Art, one of Justin’s favorite galleries in the world renowned local museum. He’d always been amazed how lifelike these images were and how they could use light so proficiently to highlight their otherwise dark works. Even this gallery wasn’t working to bring him out of his depression today, though. He just rambled along, barely even seeing the art as he followed along wherever Daphne chose to lead.

“So what. You still got in on your own merit, even if you didn’t finish the application on your own. So, why did you tell your mom it didn’t matter,” Daphne continued to press. “You should still go. It would be perfect for you, Justin.”

“What exactly would be the point now, Daphne? I’m not . . . . I don’t want to go there, Daph. I’ll just go to Dartmouth, like I already planned. I’ve already sent in my acceptance letter there anyway.” Justin wasn’t really fooling his best friend, he knew, but he just really didn’t want to talk about this subject any more.

“Fine. Be stupid and throw your life away,” Daphne conceded, at least for the time being. “But, you’re going to be absolutely miserable being a business major, you know.” 

Justin didn’t bother to respond. It was easier to let Daphne think she’d won the argument and hope that she would finally shut up. Eventually, the two teens wandered into the Impressionist Gallery and continued strolling along, mostly without talking for several minutes, Justin lost in his own thoughts and Daphne watching Justin. 

They were sitting on a padded bench, staring at a large abstract impressionist piece that took up most of one wall, when Justin felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see who might be trying to get his attention. He was surprised to see Lindsey with Gus in a stroller standing behind him, smiling down at his confusion.

“Justin. I thought that was you,” the stately tall blonde woman gushed. “I see you’re admiring the Kandinsky. It’s one of my favorites, too. Mind if Gus and I join you?”

“Please. Lindsey, this is my best friend, Daphne. Daph, this is Lindsey Peterson and this adorable little scamp is Gus.” 

Justin made the introductions, ending by reaching into the stroller and extricating a giggling toddler who was yelling ‘Jus’n’ at the sight of his favorite babysitter. Justin hugged the warm little body tightly, amazed at how happy he felt to see the little boy. But, when Gus started gabbling loudly, excited to tell his friend about whatever toddler adventures he’d had recently, Justin signalled to Lindsey that he would take Gus out of the Gallery, allowing the other patrons to continue viewing the art without being disturbed. Lindsey, like any mother of a babbling toddler, was thrilled to let Justin have a turn at childcare duty and nodded happily while she continued to admire the painting and chatted with Daphne. 

Justin set Gus down so the boy could walk while holding on to the young man’s hand. He led the little boy to the Children’s Play Area, located in a back corner of the museum and, after putting one of the available painting smocks hanging from a peg on the boy, he let Gus go at the finger paints, joining in eventually himself. Justin was having so much fun with the boisterous, engaging little boy that he completely lost time and was startled when he finally looked up to see Lindsey and Daphne walking up to them, the boy’s mother beaming at the two paint smeared kids. Daphne was smiling too, glad to see Justin smiling for the first time in weeks. 

“Well, Picasso and Son, let’s see your fabulous masterpieces,” Lindsey said while trying to fend off the fingers dripping with paint that her offspring was trying to wrap around her in greeting. 

“He’s not bad,” Justin commented, proud of his young protege, displaying the child’s artwork to his mother. “Gus definitely has the concept of ‘abstract’ down, at least.” 

“You are so wonderful with Gus,” Lindsey complimented when the boys had both been cleaned up and the group was headed down to the cafe on the ground floor for a quick snack. “You are going to make a wonderful father some day.”

“Yeah. Right.” Justin shook his head in denial.

“I mean it, Justin.” Lindsey insisted. “You have a real connection with Gus. I can see you with a whole passle of kids of your own someday.”

“Somehow, Lindsey, I just can’t see myself as the suburban father of three, dragging the kids to the Country Club on the weekends and forcing them to conform to society’s norms like my parents did to me.” Justin was still irate with his mother over the Founder’s Day Brunch fiasco and wasn’t likely to forget it soon. 

“Well, I agree with that,” LIndsey laughed. “I can’t see Brian at the Country Club, either. Unless he was sucking off the waiter in the kitchen and making fun of the Bridge Club. Although, that is something I would pay money to see.” 

Justin looked over at Daphne, who gave him a little head shake indicating she hadn’t told the blonde about the blowup with Brian. Justin sighed, wishing that the topic of the handsome brunet hadn’t come up to crash his good mood. Right then Gus came up to Justin and patted the youth’s knee, asking ‘up, up’. Justin lifted the boy into his lap and helped him take a sip of his water. Gus, settled his small head against Justin’s shoulder and his eyelids immediately started to droop. And, in that completely trusting way small children sometimes have, Gus was asleep in Justin’s arms in a matter of seconds. 

“Well, it looks like it’s time for me to head home.” Lindsey said, starting to get to her feet. “Too bad, I still didn’t get a chance to see the Piet Mondrian exhibit - that was actually the reason I came today. But, it looks like you’ve worn Gus out too well, Justin. I’ll have to come back another day.”

“Lindz, you don’t have to go. I’m happy to watch Gus while you and Daphne finish enjoying the exhibit,” Justin offered, rocking the warm little body and inhaling that clean, innocent sleeping child smell. “If you want, I could even take him back to your place so he can get a real nap, while you take some time off.”

“Oh, Justin, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I insist, Lindz. Really, I’m enjoying this. Gus is so easy to take care of, it’s no big deal, really.” Justin offered again. 

“You’re sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“I’m sure. In fact, I insist. Why don’t you call Mel and the two of you can go out to lunch or something. I don’t have anything else to do today, anyways and I love spending time with this little guy.”

After all the details were worked out, Lindsey gave Justin her keys and then headed off the the private exhibit with Daphne - the two women having hit it off immediately. Justin continued to sit in the cafe, holding and rocking the sleepy little boy, finding it incredibly relaxing to hold the toddler while he slept. Justin let his mind wander, thinking about the earlier conversation and the idea of raising a child in the Country Club suburbs versus the alternative families he’d seen around Liberty Avenue. From everything he’d seen, Justin thought the ‘alternative’ families were more stable than the traditional ones he was more familiar with. 

-I really wouldn’t mind having a child someday, I guess. But that’s not likely to happen unless I suddenly develop a taste for pussy. . . . Although, what Brian has with Lindsey and Mel isn’t so bad. . . . . I hope Brian gets to spend more time with Gus, like he said he wanted. He’s really a great dad - he just needs a bit more practice. . . . I could take Gus over there right now, and see if he wanted to . . . . Shit. What the fuck am I thinking. . . . .Gus looks so much like him. . . . Fuck, I miss him. . . . I hope he’s okay. From what Ted said the other day, it sounded like he was pretty fucked up. . . . .So am I. . . . Why am I doing this again? So what if he didn’t tell me the truth about our being in a ‘relationship’ before I was bashed - he didn’t ever really lie to me, he just let me think what I wanted. . . . . God, he did so much for me - a complete stranger - I can’t believe he would just take me in like that and take care of me, even gave me a job, when he didn’t even know me really. . . . . .It’s just that I thought he really loved me. That we had a commitment. . . . . But, it was all just in my imagination. . . . I’m so fucked.

Justin started to gather Gus’ things together. He put the sleeping child into the stroller and started to head out for the short walk over to Mel & Lindz’ place. A block or two from the museum, Justin passed by an old mansion that had been converted into a law office. The turn of the century Arts and Crafts style building reminded Justin of the Governor Hotel back in Portland and about everything else that had happened in that lovely old hotel. That in turn brought to mind the lovely afternoon dream he’d had yesterday - he blushed again just remembering how vivid that dream had been. He hadn’t had a wet dream in a long time, but that one - well, it was worth having to get up and change the sheets he thought. 

Justin’s mind was still wandering while he strolled with the sleeping child, but no matter what he tried to focus on, he kept coming back to that delicious dream - well, more a memory than a dream really since it had all really happened. God that was an amazing way to lose your virginity, Justin thought, even if he hadn’t known at the time that that was happening. Brian was very good at what he did. 

-He looked so beautiful at the end when he came. . . . . God, he was glorious with his head thrown back and his eyes lit up like that. . . . and when he came and he shouted out my name. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Shit. He said he loved me. When he came he yelled out that he loved me. . . . That was real. It wasn’t something I imagined. Brian did love me. . . . . Brian loves me. It wasn’t all just something I made up in my mind. Brian does love me.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Jennifer Taylor was rushed this morning and didn’t really want to stop to answer the phone. It was probably just that reporter who had been calling from the local business journal asking more annoying questions about Taylor Electronics. Jennifer didn’t really know anything about what had been going on at the company under Craig’s governance. Unfortunately, she was going to have to learn fast, though. With Craig out of the picture for who knew how long, Jennifer was either going to have to step up and take over running the business or sell it fast. She was actually late for an appointment with a lawyer right now to discuss her options, which was another reason she didn’t want to answer the phone. However, it could be Molly or Justin, she thought, so she stopped and answered the phone.

“Hello. Is Mr. Craig Taylor available?” a pleasant voice said.

“I’m sorry, but no. Mr. Taylor is not available and probably won’t be for a long, long time, unless you want to contact him at the Allegheny County Correctional Facility.” Jennifer didn’t have time to mess around and if this was another reporter or some other busybody, well, let them call Craig directly for his statement she thought.

“I see, hmmmm. This is Alexander Gregson, I’m an auditor with First Bank of Pittsburgh. I really need to talk to whomever is responsible for the Justin C. Taylor Trust. If Mr. Taylor is currently in prison, then that would definitely disqualify him from acting as the administrator of the trust. Let me see,” the auditor paused momentarily while reviewing his records. “Ahh. Yes. The records show that the Substitute Trustee in this case is a Mrs. Jennifer Taylor. Would that, perchance, be you Madam?”

“Yes. I’m Jennifer Taylor. May I ask why you’re calling?”

“Of Course, Madam. You see, there have been a number of discrepancies recently with this particular Trust Account as well as numerous, questionable, withdrawals. The account has been severely depleted, which is what brought the matter to my attention in the first place. I would appreciate it if you would come into the bank so that we could discuss the matter.”

“That little fucker!,” Jennifer knew almost at once who had been making the withdrawals, and it certainly hadn’t been Justin. “Sorry. I’m just a little angry at my husband. Mr. Gregson, I am on my way to meet with my attorney about several other business matters this morning. I would be happy to meet with you later this afternoon, however. Would 2:00 pm be okay with you?”

+++++++++++++++++++++

Craig Taylor was glad to finally be out of that damned County lockup. The arraignment hearing this morning hadn’t gone well, at least not according to the idiot public defender he’d had to accept since Jennifer had cut him off and refused to pay for an attorney for him. But, at least they had agreed to let him post bond, secured by a mortgage on the house, which was still partly in his name, thank God that bitch hadn’t gotten around to changing that at least. So, here Craig was, standing on the street corner in front of the jail, wearing the same stinking clothes he’d been in two weeks ago when he’d been arrested, and waiting for his mistress to pick him up. At least Connie was still on his side, Craig thought.

Finally, after waiting for at least fifteen minutes, Craig finally saw the sporty little miata convertible he’d bought Connie a couple weeks ago, pulling out of traffic towards him. He waived at the sassy little redhead as she drove up and waited while she pulled into the curb. Before Craig could get into the car, however, Connie was out of the driver’s side door and pacing around to where he was standing, with a very forbidding glower on her usually sexy face. 

“What the fuck, now, Connie,” Craig was not in the mood to deal with a disgruntled mistress.

“You tell me, Craig,” Connie yelled, her long pink acrylic nails pointing at him only a few inches from his face. “Why the hell is my bank account frozen? I tried to get some cash out this morning and I was told there’s some kind of federal order thingy and they’ve frozen my account.”

“How the hell would I know why your account is frozen, Connie.” Craig was now yelling back, disregarding the crowd of people were were now gathering to stare at the spectacle. “Did you bounce a bunch more checks or something?”

“Fuck no. I didn’t bounce any checks. The bank manager told me it was because of YOU, Craig. You’re under investigation for Federal Bank Fraud or some shit like that. They told me I could even lose my condo. You stupid little shit - how dare you get me involved in something like this,” Connie was now so incensed that she let loose and slapped Craig as hard as she could, and was glad to see that her hard nails left little half-moon bloody marks where she hit him. “We’re through, Craig. Find some other willing hole to stick your dick into from now on. I’m going to go see my lawyer to find out how to keep my condo.”

Craig Taylor stood on the sidewalk and watched as the firey redhead got back in her car and drove away. He was now homeless, friendless and broke. All because of a couple of little faggots. Fuck them. He would get even, somehow. Justin and that Brian Kinney would both pay for what he was having to go through.  
+++++++++++++++++++++


	30. Coming Home.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Penultimate Chapter! Have a sad, pathetic Brian? Sunshine to the rescue (with a little help from Gus). Enjoy! TAG

Chapter 30 - Coming Home.

Brian really wished that the damn phone would stop ringing. Didn’t whoever was calling get it yet that he wasn’t going to answer. The damn thing had been ringing for like an hour now. He thought briefly about getting up and throwing the damn thing through the fucking window, but decided that would take far too much effort. Instead Brian just let his body fall sideways on the couch and pulled a cushion over his head to block out the noise.

So what if it was 11:00 am and he was still sitting here on the couch in only his briefs. Who cared that he should have been to work four hours ago. Ted and Cyn would handle it and if they didn’t, well . . . . what the fuck difference did it make anyhow. Maybe he’d make it into work after his head stopped pounding. That’s when he remembered he was out of aspirin and decided that he would just go back to bed and hopefully his head would finally explode and put him out of his misery Of course, that would require too much effort, too - best to just stay on the couch.

The damn phone started to ring again. This time the asshole left a message and Brian, whose hearing when he was hung over seemed to be nothing short of ultrasonic, listened listlessly to Ted’s voice berating him again for not being where he was supposed to be.

“Brian. You had three interviews set up this morning with candidates for a new Art Director. Cyn and I have already done the preliminary interviews but YOU have to make the final decision. Just call me alright so I can find out when you want me to reschedule the interviews for. Please, Brian.”

“I don’t want a NEW Art Director, Theodore,” Brian said to the answering machine. “I want my old Art Director back.”

-Shit. Well, if there’s no aspirin, then the only way to get rid of this headache is to get drunk again, I guess. . . . . Oh, right, I’m out of Beam. . . . .Where’s that bottle of rum I had last night? . . . . Fuck it’s empty. Shit. . . . I’m too fucking hung over to get drunk - now that’s a first.

Just then Brian heard a knock at the loft door and he groaned. They must have sent in the calvary, he thought. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone. When he didn’t answer, he heard the sound of a key in the lock and the door started to slide open. Goddamned Mikey - Brian had to make a note to take the fucker’s key away. Brian thought maybe if he just stayed out of sight on the couch, Mikey wouldn’t see him and would just go away. Okay, it wasn’t a good plan but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

Justin was disappointed when nobody answered his knock on the door. But, it was the middle of the day on a workday - of course Brian would be at the office, what did he think. He was about to turn around and leave again, knowing this was probably a bad idea to start with, but Justin had a sudden desire to look at the loft again, just one more time. So, he pulled out his key and opened the door.

Justin’s first thought was that someone had broken in and trashed the loft. The furniture was knocked over and pushed out of place. There was trash on the floor, the counters, the table, everywhere - old food containers, empty liquor bottles, he even saw a used condom on the floor over by the back of the couch. And it smelled like someone had died in here he thought. But then Justin remembered what Ted had said and figured that this was probably just Brian on a bender - definitely not pretty, he conceded. 

Luckily, Gus was still asleep in his stroller, so Justin simply pushed the stroller inside and left him safely strapped in. Then he pulled the trash can out from under the sink and started to pick up the trash around the kitchen area. He hadn’t even finished with the kitchen though before he needed a second trash bag. When he couldn’t find one under the sink, he thought he’d check in the bathroom. 

As he walked towards the bedroom, he passed by the couch and out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw movement. Maybe he was wrong and the place HAD been vandalized, Justin thought, carefully approaching the couch to see if the vandal was still there. Picking up a discarded rum bottle from the floor he tiptoed over to the couch and raised up the bottle over his head as he leaned over the back of the couch for a look. 

The sight that met Justin’s eyes was at first so shocking that he dropped the rum bottle which landed on his toe, causing him to yelp. The figure on the couch didn’t move, but a voice came out from under the cushion which was covering the naked man’s head.

*groan* Leave me the fuck alone, Mikey. I don’t care what the latest fucking crisis is. Unless the building is on fire I’m not moving. On second thought, I’m not moving even then.”

Justin broke out laughing at the diatribe being leveled at him from the couch cushion. Brian sounded so pathetic and sad and he was lying on the couch, curled up in the fetal position with nothing on but his briefs with the cushion pressed over his head. It was the funniest thing Justin had seen in weeks. His laughter pealed out ringing through the loft and echoing off the high open beamed ceiling. 

“Great. Now I’m have auditory hallucinations. I’ll let you know when the fucking pink elephants show up, Mikey. Until then, just leave me the fuck alone,” the couch cushion moaned again as if the laughter had hurt his head even more than it was throbbing before. 

The laughing and the yelling from the couch cushion had finally penetrated the consciousness of the sleeping child, who chose that moment to wake from his nap and let out a righteous wail. Justin, still laughing, went to release the boy from the stroller so he could hold him and comfort him. Gus was very disconcerted to wake up in such a strange place and so abruptly and he was determined not to be easily consoled. So, Justin was still holding and bouncing the baby and talking to him in a soothing tone, when he turned around to find Brian standing right behind him, staring as if he was seeing a three-headed alien. This caused Justin to break out laughing again and made Gus wail even louder. All this noise was not doing kind things to Brian’s head, causing him to wince and take several steps back.

“Justin?” Brian said blinking and rubbing his eyes in disbelief. “Am I fucking dead or is this just another hallucination?” 

Justin put a hand on Brian’s shoulder to steady himself and stood on his toes to plant a kiss on the confused man’s cheek. “Neither, you idiot.” 

*groan* “What. . . I mean. . . Shit, I’m gonna puke.” Brian added less than eloquently as he dashed off to the bathroom.

Justin cleared off a wide space on the floor and put one of Gus’ blankets down with an array of toys to keep him busy, then ran off to the bathroom to see if he could help the man retching into the toilet. He grabbed a towel off the shelf - the only clean one remaining, it appeared - and wet it in the sink then went over and laid it across Brian’s neck as the brunet sat on the floor with his head resting on his arm which was draped inelegantly over the rim of the toilet. After flushing the toilet and then handing Brian a small glass full of mouthwash, Justin helped the weak man off the floor and guided him to the bed. The sheets looked and smelled disgusting, but Brian was too out of it, Justin decided, to care, so he just helped him under the covers and left him lying there while he went back out to see to Gus. 

By mid-afternoon, Justin had managed to borrow some more trash bags from a downstairs neighbor and picked up the trash. The line of trash bags in the hallway were waiting to be taken down to the dumpster in the rear of the building along with another couple bags of recyclables. He also managed to straighten out the furniture, wipe down the kitchen counters and start the dishwasher, start a load of towels and bedding in the clothes washer and was trying to figure out if he wanted to start on the bathroom next or just wait until Brian finally woke up. 

Justin had also called Lindsey to let her know where he and Gus were - diplomatically saying nothing about the state in which he’d found Brian. Then he’d called his mother and daphne so they wouldn’t worry either. Finally, he’d talked to Ted, who had called again to see if Brian was still alive and/or likely to ever return to work. The CFO of Kinnetik was overjoyed when Justin answered Brian’s phone and even more excited when he said he would stay at least until Brian was feeling well enough to call Ted back himself. If Justin was back, Ted was sure that things would start to return to normal for Brian and the company. 

At about 3:00, Brian staggered out of the bedroom, this time wearing sweats at least. He stopped in mid-stride when he saw Justin sitting on the floor in front of the couch playing with Gus. He raised his hands to his eyes, rubbing them with his fists and then staring once again at the sight in front of him.

“Fuck. I thought I was dreaming or hallucinating,” Brian rasped out, his voice hoarse and unsteady. “Are you really here?” 

“Of course I’m really here.” Justin giggled, the look on Brian’s face was just too funny. “Brian, please sit down before you fall over. You’d scare Gus if you did.”

Brian sat on the couch as directed. Justin picked Gus up and sat down next to Brian, setting the boy on his   
father’s lap. 

 

Brian sat on the couch as directed. Justin picked Gus up and sat down next to Brian, setting the boy on his father’s lap. He leaned over to kiss the still confused older man, but catching a whiff of the stench coming off his companion, he wrinkled up his nose instead and opted for just patting him on the shoulder. Gus must have had similar concerns, since he was already scrambling to get back to Justin. 

“Brian, don’t take this the wrong way, or anything, but, you REALLY stink.” Justin was finding all this just too amusing and couldn’t restrain another giggle. “I propose a shower for you and I’ll get us something to eat in the meantime, okay.”

Brian, still looking so dazed that it almost melted Justin’s heart, got up and did as he was told without another word. Twenty minutes later, when a clean and fresh smelling Brian emerged from the bathroom, he discovered that the sheets had been stripped off the bed and there was a pile of freshly laundered and folded clothes sitting on the bare mattress waiting for him. He pulled on a clean pair of jeans and dawdled around in the bedroom for a few minutes before getting up the courage to head to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what to say to Justin - the award winning Ad Man was at a complete loss for words - he was trying to put off seeing Justin for a few more minutes while he formulated a brilliant campaign strategy for this most-important pitch.

“Sunshine,” Brian called out as he finally stepped down into the main room, having come up with an opening line at least, if not a complete campaign strategy. 

But, there was no Sunshine in the place. Brian noted also that Gus’ stroller was missing from where it had been waiting next to the door. He shuffled over to the kitchen island, sat on a stool and let his head fall forward onto his crossed arms. Plainly, it was too good to be true. Brian knew Justin was gone again and this time he wouldn’t be back. The devastated and exhausted man let himself be overcome by the despair that he’d been trying to hold at bay with liquor, drugs and sex for the past two weeks. He’d always known he didn’t deserve anyone like Justin, but he had hoped. . . .

When Brian felt a kiss on the back of his neck, he didn’t know how much later, he almost fell off the stool in surprise. He hadn’t heard anyone come in - he’d been too lost in self-pity. He jumped up and spun around, seeing Justin and impulsively enveloping the younger man in a passionate embrace, kissing him soundly, not yet allowing himself to believe it was true and that Justin was actually back. 

“Justin. You came back,” Brian was repeating over and over again. “You came back.”

“Yes, I came back. I couldn’t stay away, Brian.” Justin was happily returning Brian’s ardent kisses, just as glad to be back in the arms of his lover as Brian was to have him there. “I’ll always come back to you, Brian.”

To both mens’ frustration, Gus happened to pick that moment to make his presence known. “Da da! Up!” the toddler demanded. Brian laughed for the first time in several weeks and released Justin for long enough to lift his little carbon copy into his arms, allowing him kiss both his boys at the same time. Gus seemed delighted with this new game and joined in the kissing enthusiastically, depositing wet, somewhat sticky, kisses on both Justin and Brian. Justin finally managed to escape long enough to set the bag of take out from the Diner on the kitchen counter - thus explaining to Brian where his Sunshine had disappeared to when he thought he’d been abandoned again. 

“Jus’n. Want dinner,” was Gus’ demand as soon as the boy was reminded of the food they’d just gone out to get. 

“Okay, buddy. I’ll get your dinner ready for you. Then, we need to call your mommies and have them come pick you up.” Justin winked at Brian - As fun as family reunions were, there was a lot more fun to be had tonight after Gus was gone. 

The three boys happily set to, devouring dinner and laughing at Gus’ antics as they ate. Brian was practically giddy at having both Gus and Justin back with him. He was afraid to even blink for fear they would disappear again. He and Justin hadn’t had a chance to talk yet, and he knew it was inevitably coming, but he wasn’t in any hurry to dispel the happy magic they were now sharing so he simply let himself enjoy and tried not to think too far ahead.

They were just about to dig into the lemon bars that Debbie had sent over for their dessert when the meal was disturbed by another knock on the door. Justin jumped up to answer it, thinking perhaps the girls were here early for Gus. He’d barely unlocked the door though before it was yanked open and the last person he’d ever hoped to see was standing in front of him with a look of pure hatred radiating out at Justin.

“Justin. Just the little faggot I wanted to see,” Craig said, shoving Justin backwards as he bulldozed his way into the loft. “Ah. And, there’s the big fucking faggot, too. Isn’t this cozy.”

“Dad, you’re drunk. Just get the hell out of here,” Justin tried to grab Craig by the shoulder and force him back towards the doorway. “You’re not welcome here. Just get out.”

“Not gonna do that, Justin. You and your cocksucking boyfriend here owe me.” Craig wrested away from Justin’s grip and resumed his beeline towards Brian, who was backing away, still holding Gus protectively. “Who’s the little baby cocksucker? Your fucking spawn? Why the hell they let trash like you procreate, I’ll never know.”

“You need to shut the fuck up and get the hell out of here, Dad, before I call the police.” Justin threatened. “Do you really want to add another assault charge to the pile of shit you’re already in?”

“Wouldn’t fucking matter, now, would it. I’m already fucked.” Craig turned on his son again. “It’s all your fucking fault, you goddamned fucking fairy. God, I wish you’d never been born. It’s all your fucking fault. I’m going to fucking lose everything I’ve worked for and It’s. All. Your. FAULT.” 

Craig had been advancing on Justin as he spoke. His face was suffused with rage, there was spittle gathered at the corner of his mouth and the veins in his neck were so pronounced you could literally see his heart beating there. As he neared Justin, he abruptly reached up and encircled the boy’s neck with his hands, throttling his son and punctuating his words with little violent shakes as he pushed Justin backwards.

“Get your hands off him,” Brian demanded, his icy tone testament to his intent, but Craig was too far gone to stop even when he felt a large strong hand gripping his shoulder from behind.

“Fuck off. This is between my fairy son and me.” Craig snarled, watching as Justin’s face turned red from lack of oxygen, his hands scrabbling at Craig’s.

Craig was thoroughly unprepared for the fist that slammed into the side of his face at that moment. He was slammed sideways, falling on the floor and pulling Justin down with him before he managed to release his hold in order to use his hands to break his fall. Justin managed to roll away, gasping, trying to get his breath back. Brian didn’t wait though to see if his partner was okay. He advanced on Craig, kicking the cringing man away from where Justin was kneeling, forcing the older man to scuttle towards the door on hands and knees to try to avoid more kicks. 

“Don’t you ever, EVER, come near me or my family again, old man!” Brian was shouting, herding Craig towards the open loft door and kicking him again every time the coward paused for breath. “If you ever lay a hand on Justin again, I. Will, Fucking, KILL. YOU.”

And, with the last two words, emphasized with savage kicks, Brian booted the man clear out the door, slamming it shut with a thud and locking it quickly. Then he rushed over to Justin, hauling him up to his feet and scanning him worriedly to see if the younger man was badly hurt. 

“I’m fine, Brian,” Justin managed to croak. “Call the police, right now. I want that asshole back in jail where he can’t come near us ever again.”

Justin then hurried over to pick up a frightened, crying Gus, while Brian dialed 911. Both men were still shaky but relieved twenty minutes later when the police showed up, handcuffing a battered Craig who hadn’t bothered to get up from where he’d come to rest on the landing outside the loft door.   
+++++++++++++++++++++++++


	31. A Successful Campaign.

Chapter 31 - A Successful Campaign.

Brian and Justin waved as Lindsey, Mel and Gus left the loft. Brian had his hand on Justin’s lower back and as he slid the loft door closed, he scooped the beautiful blond closer with the encircling arm. Looking down into the face of the man he’d thought he’d lost forever, all Brian’s strategies for winning Justin back for good went *poof*. 

“So, Sunshine, how is it that you make me forget everything I was planning to say,” Brian asked. “I had this great pitch I was going to make and it was guaranteed to win you back. But, I can’t remember a word of it.”

“That’s too bad. I’m sure it would have been great, Mr. Kinney.” Justin’s hands had migrated upwards and were tangled in the chestnut tresses, his eyes locked on the hazel ones looking down on him. “Perhaps we could brainstorm a new campaign for you?”

“Good idea. Where would YOU start, Mr. Taylor?” the Ad Man asked.

“Let’s see. How about you start with something along the lines of ‘I missed you so much, Justin’. If you really sold it with a sad puppy dog look, that would be a pretty good start.”

“Like this,” Brian asked, trying his best for ‘sad puppy dog’ but ending up with something more along the lines of ‘God, you’re hot’. “I really did miss you, Sunshine. You have no idea.”

“Well, I think I have some idea, considering the state the loft was in when I got here, not to mention what Ted told me.” 

“Ted is well known to be an inveterate liar - I wouldn’t believe a word he says. And, the loft, well, I had a problem with my cleaning service is all.” Brian tried to say this with a straight face, but the crinkles in the corners of his mouth were giving him away.

“I see. Well, now, moving on with your campaign, you could always go with the classic ‘I was an asshole, can you ever forgive me?’. The classics never go out of style, you know.” Justin suggested. 

“Ah, yes, the classics. . . . I was a complete asshole. I should have told you everything right from the start. I probably don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Brian went on. “How was that?”

“I liked the obvious sincerity. Very nice presentation, Mr. Kinney.”

“Thank you, Mr. Taylor. So, then after that, would you think it appropriate for me to kiss you, passionately, for an inordinately long period of time until you were panting for breath?” Brian was smiling with his patented smirk at this point, lips curling in, enjoying the banter that he and Justin were so good at and which he’d missed so much.

“Oh yes, Mr. Kinney. I think that would be very appropriate at this stage of the campaign. Provided, of course that you take me to bed immediately after and make mad, passionate love to me for the rest of the night. I’m sure that any campaign like that would meet with overwhelming success.”

“Well, if you insist, Mr. Taylor,” and Brian dove in for the previously discussed kiss.

As their lips met, Justin felt a spark ignite in the core of his being. It was a flame that he’d thought had gone out but which was instantly rekindled as Brian’s lips pressed firmly against his. He felt Brian’s teeth nibbling at his lower lip, his tongue tasting and licking, their breath mingling. Brian’s kisses were somehow both tender and firey at the same time. Justin felt that he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get deep enough into this man, that they would always be trying to find a way to come together even more. And, when he was truly close to running out of air, Justin felt Brian pull back slightly, still popping tiny, light kisses onto his lips but allowing them both access to fresh air at the same time. 

“Was that *kiss* sufficient *kiss* for your purposes *kiss*, Mr. Taylor?” Brian whispered into Justin’s open mouth. 

“Lovely, Mr. Kinney. But I feel maybe, more of the same might be even better. And, ummmm, feel free to add in some passionate fondling, as well, if you’d like.”

“I’d definitely like, Mr. Taylor. How’s this?”

“Ohhhhhhh. Yessss. That’s very good,” Justin was more than satisfied with the next stage of the campaign, being as it involved Brian’s hands going down the back of his jeans and gently kneading his ass, an occasional finger tip venturing deeper into the sensitive regions of his crack, while simultaneously pulling their bodies closer, their cocks grinding together through their pants. 

Brian’s head tilted a bit and he mashed his lips against Justin’s again, harder and deeper this time, his tongue demanding entrance. He was thrusting with that talented tongue, probing into the accepting mouth of this yummy blond treat. Justin was equally aroused and wanted the handsome brunet just as much, his tongue meeting and dancing with Brian’s, his hands working their way under the other man’s shirt, enjoying the feel of that warm, smooth skin. 

Brian’s kisses started to wander down from the delicious coral pink lips over Justin’s cheeks and chin, down his throat and shoulders and on to the sensitive pink nubs on his chest. One at a time he gently scraped his teeth across the super-sensitive skin, causing each nipple to harden and Justin to moan Brian’s name. He hadn’t yet released his grip on that perfect plump ass either and the combination of feelings was driving Justin crazy.

“I’m afraid, Mr. Taylor, that to continue the passionate fondling, I’m going to need greater access to that tasty, tight little ass of yours. So, if you would like to follow me to my workroom, I would be glad to discuss the campaign’s ‘carryover effect’* and ‘usage levels’* while I tear your clothes off and fondle the rest of your mouth-watering body.” Brian was leading Justin up the stairs to the bed as he spoke. 

Justin pulled off his tee as he stood facing the foot of the bed, while Brian sat, and concentrated on removing the rather too-tight jeans. “I’m very interested in hearing about the ‘usage levels’, Mr. Kinney,” Justin moaned as Brian pulled down his jeans and briefs in one motion, freeing his stout fully-excited cock from confinement. 

Brian wasn’t able to respond, because he already had his hands, and his mouth, full at that moment. His hands had once again found the pliant, delectable globes of his treasure’s ass and his mouth was happily engaged with licking along the choice meaty shaft he’d just liberated from Justin’s jeans. His tongue and lips licked and kissed upwards from the base of that turgid member until Brian finally tasted the delicious drops of pre-cum already leaking from the velvety smooth skin of the head. He lovingly lapped at the tasty treat, then used his tongue to probe delicately into the sensitive slit, eliciting more incoherent noises from the wavering blond who was trying to maintain an upright position in spite of his now weak knees. When Brian was satisfied with his initial taste, he allowed himself the pleasure of taking Justin’s full cock all the way into his mouth, sucking it in slowly, swirling his tongue rapidly around the head and shaft. 

“Brian. Ohhh. God, Brian. Ummmmm. That feels so. . . . . Oh, God.” Justin could no longer remain quiet even though he had no idea what he was saying.

Brian worked at the swollen shaft with his renowned skills at fellatio, sucking, licking, swallowing and stimulating each receptive nerve ending over and over again. When he felt his lover getting close, Brian began to gently fondle at the heavy balls and meanwhile he allowed one intrepid fingertip to penetrate the lovely tight little pucker in back. The concerted stimulus worked like a charm, bringing the moaning twink over the edge right on cue, letting Brian enjoy drinking in the hot, tasty cum shooting into his mouth in waves and he kept on licking until Justin was reduced to a quivering, shaky mess. 

Smiling up at his momentarily sated lover, Brian pulled Justin over on top of him on the bed, holding him tenderly until the trembling young man had recovered.

“Brian, I’m sorry about how I left,” Justin started. “I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls or . . . . It was all just too much. I couldn’t deal with getting all the memories back like that and with you at the same time. Do you understand?”

“Shhh. It doesn’t matter now.” Brian tried to put into words all the foreign emotions he’d been trying to suppress but which he knew Justin needed to hear about. “Just. . . . don’t. . . Justin, I don’t want you to leave again. Maybe you fell into my lap by accident the night we met, but maybe it was more than that. We work pretty well together, you know. And, having you here made me better - a better person, a better man, even better at my job. Shit, Zen Ben would say it was fucking karma or fate or some shit like that. All I know is I want you here, with me. Please. . . . stay.”

“Are you sure?” Justin asked, serious, but also trying to lighten the mood at the same time. “Being with me seems to be kinda bad for your health.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. As long as your Dad stays in jail, we shouldn’t have any more trouble, I would hope.” Then Brian smiled, “Plus, once I got used to waking up with someone in my bed every morning, I kinda started to like the morning wake up calls.” 

Justin laughed softly. “Okay. Now, back to this campaign of yours - so far it’s been great. Your initial pitch was right on. But, are you up for discussing ‘turnover’ issues?” 

“What exactly do you mean by ‘turnover’* issues,” Brian asked suspiciously.

“Well, why don’t you turn over and I’ll show you,” Justin replied, head tilted slightly to the side, huge grin on his face with his tongue just barely peeking out and eyebrows wagging. 

“Ughhhh. I’m not so sure about this new, aggressive, Sunshine,” Brian teased. “What happened to my good little submissive bottom boy? Did he disappear when your memories all came back?”

“He’s still in there somewhere,” Justin said as he tried on one of Brian’s smirks and, figuring it looked pretty good on him, he decided to go with it. “But I didn’t hear you complaining too much about the Turnover the last night we were together, either. So. . . .” Justin was already unbuttoning Brian’s soft cotton button down shirt, not anticipating any real objections.

After a few seconds, Brian relented, “consider this your, ‘welcome home’ present, Sunshine. Just remember though, that after tonight, I’m the boss and any ‘turnover’ issues are up to me, okay.”

“Deal.” Justin agreed, and then pushed Brian’s shirt off his shoulders, and began to worship the beautiful, golden skin of Brian’s chest and stomach, nibbling, licking and kissing along as his mouth moved downwards. For a few minutes, the voracious blond mouthed Brian’s engorged cock through the material of the sweat pants he was still wearing, and then, excited by the wiggling and straining and thrusting hips of his handsome hunk, he pulled the pants down and repeated his actions on the real thing. 

When Brian couldn’t repress the moan that he’d been biting back, Justin shifted so he could manipulate Brian over onto his stomach. Feeling adventurous, Justin impetuously knelt between the older man’s legs, and teased apart Brian’s butt cheeks for his first assay into rimming. The tyro had already learned a lot from his patient and enlightening mentor. He excitedly dove in, licking along the lightly furred crack and down to The handson brunet’s seldom used hole. Justin licked and sucked the delicate folds of skin, enjoying the ecstatic noises coming from the face buried in the pillow at the head of the bed. Then, intrepidly forging on, Justin poked his untried tongue into the receptive tight pucker and relished his first forbidden taste of his wondrous lover. Thrusting repeatedly into the hot slick depths, Justin felt Brian’s arousal mounting.

“Sunshine, I . . . I can’t. . . Can’t last much longer. If you don’t move on with your plans soon, you’re. . . Ohhhhh. . . You’re gonna run out of . . . . uhnnnnn. . . time.” Brian gasped out.

Taking heed of the timely warning, the eager blond tore open a condom for himself and slathered on some lubricant. He added some extra lube to Brian’s saliva coated crack and briefly used two fingers to help prepare the seldom-bottoming man under him. Brian was too insistent though and didn’t want to wait any longer. Snaking his hand back to grip behind Justin’s thigh, Brian urged his lover to begin, thrusting his hips urgently at the too-cautious blond. Taking the cue, though, Justin aligned his impatient dick with Brian’s hungry hole and joyously pushed in using one steady driving motion. 

Pausing for Brian to adjust to the intrusion, Justin grasped the older man’s waist tightly, breathing deeply to control his urge to move. Then, the light tap on his thigh giving him the go ahead, Justin began to pump in and out with a steady rhythm, savoring the feeling of being inside this man he adored. Bringing his knees together slightly, which allowed him to angle his thrusts deeper, Justin knew when he’d hit Brian’s sweet spot from the ungodly groan Brian let out as he threw back his head and arched his back, panting and mewling with Justin’s every move.

The outburst from his partner increased Justin’s lust exponentially, encouraging him to increase his pace. And, as the young blond began to ram harder and faster, Brian slammed his body backwards meeting his every move, until both men were mere seconds away from another glorious release, their racing heartbeats and panting breaths matched perfectly.

“I love you, Brian,” Justin moaned into the man’s strong, muscular back just as his body convulsed, his super-sensitized nerves firing continuously with exuberance. “I will never leave you. I want to be with you, like this forever.”

A minute later, Brian felt his own release, as buckets of jizz shot out, drenching his belly and the sheets under him, every muscle in his body first tensing up and then relaxing until he felt he would never be able to move again. He collapsed, not caring that he fell into the puddle of cum, and instead happy that his fall had brought Justin down with him and he could sense the smaller body of his lover draped over him in his own repletion. The two men stayed like that for what felt like ages, before Justin pulled out and rolled over so that Brian could do the same.

Enfolding the still panting, enraptured blond in his strong, protective arms, Brian, nuzzled at Justin’s cheek and ear, leaving kisses wherever he came in contact with Justin’s toasty warm skin. Breathing in the musky scent of sex and sweat along with the underlying sweetness that was Justin, Brian sighed in contentment. The man who had always avoided commitment and who had never let anyone see his emotions or his soul, was finally ready. As long as it meant that he would be with Justin, he could do this, he thought.

“I love you, too, Sunshine.”

*************************The End******************************

 

***Advertising Terms:*** 

Carryover Effect - The residual level of awareness or recall after an initial campaign period, used to plan the timing of schedules.

Turnover - The frequency with which the audience for a broadcast program changes over a period of time.

Usage Levels - Classifying media audiences by the amount of the product or service they use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. TAG


End file.
